Nine
A pain in the ass or someone more
You know when you see flashing lights in your rearview mirror and your first thoughts are “Is my seatbelt on” or “Really? I was only going ten miles over the speed limit.” Well, I knew my seatbelt was on and I knew I wasn’t speeding because I hadn’t left my parking spot in front of Town Hall. Yet, here I sat, blocked in by Stetson, while residents of Trails End watched and the news media caught it all on tape. I knew what was coming, I knew it, I knew it, but even though I did, I still couldn’t believe it. No way was he about to take me in for a murder I didn’t commit. Maxine was right; thousands of people were convicted of, or bullied into, confessing to crimes they didn’t commit every day. And I had a sinking suspicion I was about to join those ranks.
I watched Stetson get out of his car, adjust his hat so he’d look good for the cameras, then walked with a swagger as he puffed out his chest for the news. My wits came to me just in time to grab my phone and send a text to Lucy.
<Thor is on the mountain, I’m in jail, won’t be home for dinner>.
When I looked up from my phone, Stetson was at the driver’s door staring at me. He raised his hand, crooked his finger instructing me to get out, and naturally that’s when I lost my temper. I threw open my door, jumped out of the van and asked “Are you arresting me?”
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way Ms. Roberts. We need to ask you some questions so come along quietly.”
“Are you an idiot or just obtuse? I didn’t kill anyone,” I hissed.
“I guess we’re doin’ this the hard way,” he replied as he pulled out his cuffs and told me to “Turn around, put your hands on the vehicle and spread your legs.”
When I ignored him, and crossed my arms over my chest, he grabbed my arms, turned me around, and said, “All right, hands on your head and spread your legs. You wanna make a production out of this I’m all for it.”
Out of options, I brought my hands up and put them on my head as my bottom lip began to tremble. This was humiliating and it pissed me off, so, of course, my bottom lip trembled ‘cause for some reason when I got angry I tended to cry.
Then it got worse.
Stetson leaned down, ran his hands down one leg and then the up other, coming a bit closer than I thought was necessary to my crotch. When he was done, he put his hands on my hips and checked my waistline for weapons. Then he decided I might be hiding them under my bra. I tensed when his hand ran up my midline, and when he made it to my cups, though his hand ran between them, his thumb grazed my nipple. I jumped when that happened, and would have passed it off as an accident, until he whispered, “Nippy today isn’t it?”
Here’s the thing, I’m an easygoing person as long as say, no one’s an idiot or trying to feel me up without my permission. Then, all bets are off.
Now, faced with an idiot who had touched me inappropriately, controlling my actions was pretty much non-existent. So, I whipped around before he could handcuff me, raised my knee swiftly, and connected soundly with his nuts.
He whooshed out “Fuck” as he went down to his knees, cupping his balls in pain. I stood over him, hands balled into fists, wishing he would move again so my converse could make an introduction. The next thing I knew, cameras were in my face and two officers, who, I might add, seemed to chuckle when they cuffed my hands, arresting me for assault.
At least I was being arrested for something I actually did.
“You’re an asshole,” I spit out at Stetson as he breathed through the pain.
“You have the right to remain silent,” one of the officers told me.
“Do I look like the type to remain silent?” I asked.
“Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
“Good, I confess I enjoyed kicking your boss in the nuts.”
“You have the right to an attorney.”
“Will I get a pair of those lovely orange scrubs?”
“Ms. Roberts, you really should remain silent at this point, you’re looking at assault charges and suspicion of murder,” the second officer told me.
“I didn’t kill anyone,” I bit out.
“Then why were your prints on the axe that killed Zimmer?” he questioned and I felt all the blood drain from my face.
“What?” All semblance of composure drained out of me at his words. Then my knees gave out, my defiance disappeared, and I started shaking.
We kept walking towards the cruiser as the fight fled my body and I scanned the crowd for some reasonable explanation for this nightmare
“That’s not possible,” I explained. “I found him, I, I was chased, this isn’t happening,” I rambled on as he opened the cruiser door, backed me in, pushed my head down placing me in the back seat. Stunned, my mind raced in a million different directions, but the first thing that popped into my head and stayed was Max. Therefore, when the officer went to close the door, I put my foot up, stopping it, and with a trembling voice begged, “Please call, Max, please, please, please.”
I heard him before I saw him. Max, that is. I’d been in a holding cell for hours after they’d questioned me, and yes, gave me the lovely orange scrubs. The strip-search was an eye-opener, thankfully done by a woman, but the meow’s I received when we walked out told me there were cameras in the room.
How else would they know I had on my favorite pair of retro Josie and the Pussycats undies?
All things considered, arrested for assault, which he deserved, by the way, then questioned about my prints on an axe, I’d calmed down. I was now lying on a cot waiting for someone to post my bail. Come to find out there were several sets of prints on the axe, Maxine’s included. When Stetson had asked me if I’d handled an axe since I’d arrived, I told him “Yes, of course, I threw one on Founder’s Day.” You could see him deflate when I told him Maxine had handled it as well. I guess he hoped I was lying, but knowing who else’s prints were on the axe confirmed my story.
Honestly, I’d been a tad bit insulted when they asked me. I’m no killer, but if I had, I would have worn gloves for pity’s sake. Everyone knows that’s rule number one, chapter one, in the Murder for Dummies handbook.
I’d also asked about my prints, I’d never given them to the police and wondered how the hell they had them. Turns out, I’m in the system. SIOZ is funded by grants and some of those grants come from the federal government. My prints are in the system because of my contract with work. Good to know my private info is shared with everyone!
I heard more voices as I lay there, their volume increasing by the minute. From the current string of verbal assaults I could tell Stetson was getting an earful. There was “Are you out of your mind” to “I don’t give a rats ass if you had her on film, there’s no way she killed that man,” and my personal favorite “I’m gonna rip your balls off if you don’t release her right now,” Maxine shouted.
God, I loved that woman!
When the door opened and Officer Chester Tallchief (Martha’s son I had since learned) walked in to release me, the smile on his face told me Maxine had gotten the best of Chief of Police Stetson.
“Max is here,” he told me.
“Sounds like Maxine is in rare form,” I replied.
“Nah, that’s tame. Max gets his disposition from Maxine. His dad used to sit back and laugh when those two went at each other.”
“I bet, I’ve only been here four days and they exhaust me with their back and forth. How much was my bail?”
“Charges were dropped.”
“He dropped the assault charges?”
“Yeah, he seems to think you kicked him by accident.”
“Right, just like he groped me on accident,” I snapped.
“If you want to press charges I’ll write the complaint.”
“Nope, I don’t need the headache, I’ll just tell Maxine what happened and let her rip his balls off,” I laughed.
Chester gave my clothes back to me and I changed in the bathroom. When I was done, he handed me an envelope that contained my personal belongings and told me I was free to go. When I walked out, Max was in a heated discussion with Stetson as Maxine tried to wade in. As I waited for them to finish tearing Stetson a new one, my phone rang. Pulling it from my pocket, I answered on the second ring.
“You’re free,” Lucy replied when I answered.
“Barely.”
“Saw the news, nice aim by the way.”
“Asshole brushed my nipple when he was searching me,” I mumbled with my back to Max. I wasn’t sure what he would do if he heard about Stetson’s wayward hand. He’d indicated he was interested, made it clear he wanted to sleep with me, but it’s not as if we were an item or anything. Still, he’s a big guy and kind of a scary when he’s angry so I figured he might end up in jail if he knew.
“Are you being charged?”
“No, and the whole reason they hauled me in was the killer used one of the hand axes I touched on Founders Day,” I informed her.
“No shit? What are the chances?”
Yeah, what are the chances? This was Alaska, there must be millions of axes in this town alone (Okay, thousands), but what were the chances that the axe that killed Donald had my fingerprints on it?
Either I have appalling luck or I was setup, I figured.
“Unlucky or someone set me up,” I explained.
Lucy hesitated a moment and then rushed out “Ready for some more bad news?
“What?” I gritted out.
“Frank just got off the phone with Springer. They saw your arrest on the news and called to inform him that you’re suspended until further notice.”
“They can’t do that I have a contract.”
“They told Frank there’s a clause in your contract, in all of our contracts that states they can suspend anyone if their conduct is unbecoming the Institute.”
I lowered the phone, barely listening at that point and looked towards Stetson. He’d done this to me, with his wayward hand and misguided belief I was a killer. All those years I studied, all those hours of overtime and no life outside the office, gone. Because of that rat bastard. I was half tempted to knee him in the nuts again and was about to take a step towards him when I heard Lucy calling my name from the phone.
“I’m here. Listen, I’m gonna go, I’ll see you when I get back, okay?”
“I’m sorry, Mia,” she whispered and then I hung up.
My mind spun in a million directions, but one thing was clear, I needed to leave. So, I turned to Max and interrupted their conversation.
“I need to leave.”
Max turned, took in the expression on my face, and started towards me as I turned to Stetson and asked, “Am I allowed to leave Trails End, are we through here?
“Leave?” Max questioned as he stopped in front of me.
“Yeah, leave, go home. I’ve been suspended and I’m no longer allowed to work, so there is no need for me to stay.”
Max mumbled, “Sonofabitch,” before Stetson answered, “You’re still considered a suspect in both homicides, so, no, I need you here in Trails End.”
I nodded, looked at Max, saw the compassion on his face, and that about did me in. So, I turned without another word and headed towards the door.
I heard Max snap at Stetson, “Consider yourself under review,” as I pushed open the door, and walked into the late afternoon sun.
“Hold up,” Max shouted so I stopped at the top of the steps and waited for him.
“Where’s your mother?” I asked when I didn’t see her behind him.
“She’s driving the van home.”
Nodding, I took the first step, but he grabbed my arm and stopped me.
“Talk to me.”
“Nothing to say, I’m suspended for behavior unbecoming, I’m a suspect in two homicides and I can’t go home or work . . . I’m essentially stuck.”
Max nodded as he raised his hand, cupping my face. I wanted to cry at the gesture and felt my bottom lip tremble as his thumb swept away a tear I didn’t know had fallen.
“Let’s get you home,” he muttered, then kissed my forehead, and took my hand walking me to his truck.
When we headed in the opposite direction of his mother’s, butterflies hit my stomach. I’d forgotten he wanted to cook steaks and now we were heading out of town and up the mountain.
“Max, please take me to your mothers. My life is in ruins and I need to think.”
“I’d say, considering your life is in ruins that the last thing you need to do is go to my mother’s and stew on it.”
“God, you’re bullheaded. I don’t even get why you’re pursuing me,” I shouted in frustration.
Max stepped on the brakes, causing my body to lurch forward, then he pulled over and threw the truck into park. He reached over, unbuckled my seatbelt, then grabbed me at my waist and pulled me towards him.
Then he stunned me clean down to my Josie and the Pussycats undies.
“My dad was thirty-eight when he drove into Gunnison, Colorado, and laid eyes on the prettiest girl in town. They were strangers and he wasn’t staying, but he liked what he saw and went for it. That was thirty-five years ago and they were happy until the day he died. I don’t know if you’re a pain in my ass or someone more, but I sure as hell intend to find out. Now, are we clear on my reasons?”
“Okay, now you’re freaking me out.”
“Yeah? At least I have your attention. Jesus, I’ve never had to work this hard for a fuckin’ steak,” he ground out.
“Is steak a metaphor for sex because I have no—” was all I got out before he slammed his mouth over mine and kissed me silent. When he was done, he kissed his way to my ear and then whispered, “That was the appetizer.”
“Okay, good to know,” I responded, my head spinning from the intensity of the kiss. Then tried to scoot back, gain some distance from his intensity. He grabbed my leg, stopping me, and then started the truck, put it in gear, and took off up the mountain.
The drive took twenty minutes as we wound our way up. The view looking down on the valley below were spectacular. The trees had changed and the array of color was like nothing I’d seen. Gold and red mixed with the greens of the pines. Streams winding around, cutting paths within the landscape as they made their way down the mountain as fast as they could.
As we made it to the top, I realized we were on the opposite side of Grizzly Pointe and you could see the meadow where our tents were set. It was then I realized the cabin I’d glimpsed during the few hours I’d been in the meadow belonged to Max.
A warm glow of lights announced our arrival at his home. Built on the edge of the ridge, it was high above the valley and you could see the lights from the town below. His dog met us as we pulled in, a large dog whose breed was questionable. He looked to be a mix of Husky and German Shepherd, with a longish coat that was soft and thick.
When we parked, Max came around to my side and helped me down, then took my hand and led me to the large deck that faced the valley. It was cozy, with a porch swing and Adirondack chairs facing out as if he sat there every morning with his coffee as he started his day. When he unlocked his front door and ushered me inside, I stopped in awe at the cabin.
The front door opened into the living room filled with masculine leather furniture. Dark brown, leather sofa and chair were arranged in front of a massive rock covered fireplace with a timber mantel that was almost identical to my own. The floors were an amber colored tile with large rugs here and there in a tribal pattern of red, brown, and black. The walls were log siding, tucked with white chinking with minimal pictures hung on them. He had family photos on the mantel, but not much in the way of knickknacks or whatnots to give me a sense about the man.
Max walked around me as I took in the surroundings, moving into his kitchen that overlooked the living room. His kitchen, outfitted much like Maxine’s with black granite countertops and stainless appliances, was surprisingly clean for a man. Knotty pine cabinets gave the kitchen some warmth set against the coolness of the stainless steel.
When Max opened the cabinet, pulling out plates and glasses, it hit me he really was going to cook for me. He wasn’t just hauling me up here for a bootie call. I felt like an ass for assuming the worst so I dropped my pack and made my way to the kitchen.
“What can I do to help?”
“Got it covered, grab a beer for us both and I’ll meet you on the deck,” he told me as he loaded his arms with the plates and glasses and headed towards the front door.
Beer I could do, so I grabbed two from the fridge and followed him out.
Max had removed the cover from his grill and was scraping the grate when I walked out. When I handed him his beer he took it with his left hand, then raised his right hooking me around the neck, thanking me for the beer with a kiss.
My hand came up and wrapped around his wrist for support, and I could feel the wide leather cuff he wore. Actually, I don’t think I’d seen him without it since arriving. Max was a bit of an oddity now that I thought about it. He had the body of a lumberjack, but his hair was longer than most men wore. It hung longer in the back and his bangs were below his brows and parted down the center. He sort of pushed it aside when it got in the way, yet it always looked like he’d spent hours perfecting the look. The leather cuff was almost trendy, like you’d see someone younger wear, yet it seemed homemade, like it was cut from a leather strap of some sort.
“You always wear this,” I questioned as I ran my hand across it. Max’s dog bumped my leg, trying to get my attention, so I bent down and rubbed him behind the ears as Max answered my question.
“Yeah, it’s from a strap that saved my life. I never take it off. It’s to remind me of how lucky I was and I suppose a good luck charm in some ways. Muttley, go lie down,” he told the dog.
“And here I thought you were a trendsetter with your long hair and cuff,” I giggled as I watched the dog obey.
“Hardly, it’s colder here more months than not, so the hair keeps me warm,” he smiled.
“And the beard? Is that for warmth as well?”
“Nope, I just hate to shave. Give me a week and I’ll shave it off and start over again,” he smiled. “Hold my beer while I go get the steaks.”
Taking his beer, I moved to the railing and looked down on the town. My thoughts naturally drifted to whom in that town was a killer. At least I didn’t have to worry about Max since he’d been at the bottom when I fell into the river.
When his hands appeared on either side of me, he leaned in, pinning me to the railing. Caught off guard by his action I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. Without a word, he moved my hair aside and I felt his warm breath on my neck. Not thinking about what I was doing, I tilted my head to the side as his tongue snaked out, tasting my skin. All my bravado about keeping my distance fell out the window when his lips traveled up my neck. I moaned a bit when he nipped my ear, rubbing my ass against his crotch. The next thing I knew he turned me around, ripped the glasses from my face, and pinned my head with both hands as he consumed my mouth.
Screw the steaks, I thought as his hands found their way around my body. One made its way to my ass, cupping it, and the other slid to my breast, his thumb brushing gently across my nipple. I inhaled sharply as nerve endings came to life, and my knees buckled slightly. When my weight gave way, Max ripped his mouth from mine and picked me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist.
“Fuck the steaks,” he gritted out as he turned and headed towards the door.
“Okay, that works for me,” I agreed breathlessly and then lunged at his mouth. Hell, if I was going to do this I might as well participate to the best of my ability.
We’d made it to his front door when the sound of tires on the gravel drive broke us apart. Max looked towards the driveway as I climbed off his body and he growled “Maxine.”
Smoothing down my shirt, I stepped back to wait for his mother. Max didn’t like the distance between us ‘cause he reached out and hooked me around the shoulders, drawing me back to him. I lost my footing, per usual, and slammed into the side of his body just as I heard footsteps on the deck and a sultry voice say, “There’s my girl.”
Stunned at hearing that voice, I looked up, saw the familiar face I adored, and squealed “Aunt Jess?”