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    If You Think You’re Lonely Now, Valetta & Tyla’s Story of Love and Devotion
    If You Think You’re Lonely Now, Valetta & Tyla’s Story of Love and Devotion
    If You Think You’re Lonely Now, Valetta & Tyla’s Story of Love and Devotion
    Ebook567 pages8 hours

    If You Think You’re Lonely Now, Valetta & Tyla’s Story of Love and Devotion

    By B.L Wilson

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    About this ebook

    A shy deputy sheriff, Tyla Chester, wants to convince a sexy, independent older woman, Valetta Pinkney, to go out with her. The deputy stutter-stumbles every time she asks a question about the break-in and attempted burglary in the store Valetta owns. Valetta thinks the deputy is immature and a little bit odd.
    Two hit and run accidents change everything for Deputy Chester. First, the discovery of a teenage girl on the verge of death, a victim of what soon seems to be no accident. Second, Valetta is changing a tire, when she is struck by a motorist and nearly killed.
    Tyla Chester vows to find the perpetrators of these incidents and bring them to justice. As she investigates, more questions than answers arise. Who would want to kill a young woman? What was she doing at the time she was hit? Were both hit and runs instigated by the same person? And, can Tyla find a way to win Valetta’s heart? Find out in If You Think You’re Lonely Now, Valetta & Tyla’s story of love and devotion, number 10 in the Forever Woman series.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherB.L Wilson
    Release dateJun 2, 2020
    ISBN9780463266380
    If You Think You’re Lonely Now, Valetta & Tyla’s Story of Love and Devotion
    Author

    B.L Wilson

    B.L. has always been in love with books and the words in them. She never thought she could create something with the words she knew. When she read ‘To Kill A Mocking Bird,’ she realized everyday experiences could be written about in a powerful, memorable way. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with that knowledge so she kept on reading.Walter Mosley’s short stories about Easy Rawlins and his friends encouraged BL to start writing in earnest. She felt she had a story to tell...maybe several of them. She’d always kept a diary of some sort, scraps of paper, pocketsize, notepads, blank backs of agency forms, or in the margins of books. It was her habit to make these little notes to herself. She thought someday she’d make them into a book.She wrote a workplace memoir based on the people she met during her 20 years as a property manager of city-owned buildings. Writing the memoir, led her to consider writing books that were not job-related. Once again, she did...producing romance novels with African American lesbians as main characters. She wrote the novels because she couldn’t find stories that matched who she wanted to read about ...over forty, African American and female.

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      If You Think You’re Lonely Now, Valetta & Tyla’s Story of Love and Devotion - B.L Wilson

      1st: Crime at the coffee shop in Willet’s Point.

      Deputy Sheriff Tyla Chester was enjoying smooth jazz as she read the local paper, Willet’s Point Gazette. She had the midnight-to-morning tour. And she was on a break. She sat in the local 24-hour Starbucks. She loved the relaxed atmosphere of the place. Their menu of yogurts with the crunchy stuff on top was to die for, as they said in the movies she watched. She wasn’t born in Willet’s Point, but she liked what she saw when she moved here from the ex-rubber capital of the world Akron Ohio, two years and two months ago. She applied for the job of deputy sheriff two months after she arrived and got it. She enjoyed watching over her adopted town.

      She nodded to the two clerks at the register. They were looking at her then whispering to each other and giggling. One of them walked over with another cup of her favorite coffee French vanilla. She reached into a pocket for some folding money when a warm hand squeezed her other hand.

      It’s on the house. My friend says you don’t wear a wedding ring.

      Tyla looked into dark eyes that were studying her intently from the cashier’s register. Her eyes returned to the young woman standing in front of her. She wondered which woman was interested in dating her. They were both young, probably late teens to early twenties. If she had to guess, she’d say maybe twenty-one years old. But she’d bet they couldn’t legally buy a beer in a bar. Children in women’s bodies who didn’t know much of anything yet came to her mind.

      No, I don’t wear one because I’m not married. She rose from the table and took the fresh extra-large cup of French vanilla to the cashier. She pulled a five-dollar-bill out of her pocket. She glanced at the cashier’s nametag. The acting sheriff doesn’t allow us to accept gifts or free lunches or free coffees. Keep the change, Merilee. You all stay safe. I’ll see you ladies the same time tomorrow night. She tapped the brim of her Smoky the Bear hat. Walking to the door, she overheard:

      She is so cute. I bet she kisses like a dream.

      I’d want more than kisses from her sexy buns.

      Tyla decided it was best to pretend to be deaf, and so she didn’t turn around. Instead, she headed to her patrol car when she heard radio static. She pressed the button on her left shoulder radio. Deputy Chester.

      Yeah. Chester, we have a report of a possible burglary in progress at the H& R coffee shop. It’s a silent alarm.

      Is that the one in Cross Street Mall?

      That’s a copy. It’s next door to the Chinese Buffet.

      I didn’t think it was open yet.

      It has been for maybe a month.

      I’m on my way.

      Be careful, Deputy Chester. Call for backup if you need it.

      Will do. Deputy Chester removed her hat as she slid into her patrol car and turned on her lights but left the siren off. No point in letting the thieves know she was coming. Cross Street Mall was a leisurely fifteen to twenty-minute ride from her location on Main Street. Lights and/or sirens cut the time in half. It was late, so her arrival would be even faster. She arrived seven minutes later. She parked with her headlights off but facing the coffee shop’s entry door. She grabbed her flashlight then sat studying the shop.

      The lower half of front door glass was broken. The front door was open. She pulled out her gun along with her flashlight. She approached the shop and went inside. She flashed her lights around. It was clear whoever broke in was gone. She walked over to the cash register sitting broken on the floor. The cash drawers were empty. She checked the restrooms behind the cashier’s area. They were empty. She checked the room labeled Office. The safe looked as if somebody tried to open it. She could see chisel marks on the front of the safe. The room labeled Conference Room was empty as well.

      She walked further back to push the door labeled Supply Room open, noting the broken lock. The room was full of sturdy metal shelves with fragrant bins and barrels and boxes of coffee. She also spotted paper goods supplies. There was refrigerated equipment, freezers, and a large refrigerator stocked with baking supplies. They make their own bread and pastries, huh? she muttered, walking over to check the rear door. It remained locked and secure. She walked back through the shop to the front before she called it in.

      She realized she should take pictures of everything and walked back to the broken lock and snapped a photo then decided to make a video. This is Deputy Chester. It’s August 16th at 0230 AM. I’m recording a burglary at 2190 Cross Street Mall inside H&R Coffee Shop.

      She walked to the front of the shop. Note the broken glass panel of the front door. That’s how they got inside. The cash register thrown to the ground. It was cracked open. I’ll have to check with owner regarding how much cash in the register. She walked into the office, filming the safe. An attempt was made to chisel the safe open. It was clearly unsuccessful. I suggest we dust for fingerprints on the safe, the entrance door, the cash register, the office door. The locks on the supply room and the office door. The supply room seems intact, but the owner needs to inspect everything to be sure. The end.

      Tyla slid into her patrol car. Dispatch, this is Deputy Chester checking in.

      What did you find?

      Whoever broke in is long gone. I made a video of the damage. What’s the owner’s name and address? I’d like to drop by and tell ‘em what happened tonight.

      You do realize its after two in the morning. Deputy Chester, you’ll be waking Valetta Pinkney.

      Tyla rubbed her chin. That name sounds familiar.

      It should. She’s the widow of the old sheriff, Christopher Pinkney.

      Well then, she’s used to waking up at all hours.

      Not if I don’t give you her address. Senior Deputy Sheriff Leonard Abrams, who was also the acting sheriff, cut into the discussion, leaning over the dispatcher to grab the mic and speak to his subordinate.

      Sir, the place is a mess. If we let it go until morning, anybody could walk by and steal the furniture or the supplies. Hell, they could try to steal the wall safe. I figure we could get somebody to put plywood on the broken panel to the door and change the locks. I mean, the owner should do the sealing. The sooner the better. We should provide the security until then.

      Hold on a minute, Senior Deputy Sheriff Leonard Abrams remarked.

      Deputy Chester tapped on the window of the buffet next door. Then she watched the skinny older man dragging his mop and bucket to the door. He squinted at her. Jock, I need your help tonight.

      What?

      Keep an eye on the coffee shop next door for about an hour. Somebody broke in tonight. She noted how his eyes widened. It’s okay, Jock. They’re long gone. I’ll be back before you know it. I need to pick up the owner.

      You gonna buy me a beer and some of those pastries they sell?

      That’s not a problem. She watched him grab a jacket and lock up the buffet. He limped over to the coffee shop while she held open the door. She pulled out a chair for him to sit. Don’t touch anything. I gotta dust for fingerprints.

      Meanwhile, at the stationhouse, the dispatcher rolled her eyes to heaven then covered the mic. You know in your heart, Lenny Abrams, she’s right.

      Senior Deputy Abrams sighed then stroked his mustache. Yeah, yeah. I know, Alma. Who’s gonna watch the shop while she goes traipsing all over town to bring Val back to the crime scene?

      I’ll call Jock. He still cleans the place next door. He can babysit for an hour. Okay, Sheriff?

      I’m not the sheriff.

      Yes, you’re the acting sheriff.

      Deputy Chester, before you go searching all over the countryside, get the old man who cleans the place next door to babysit.

      Tyla slid into her patrol car. Already done, Sir. I’m on my way to the owner’s house.

      Alma chuckled as she caught Leonard’s eye. I told you she was a good hire. She keeps proving it.

      What’s so funny?

      Nothing. Except I think you just made your boss speechless for the hundredth time.

      Tyla grinned at her remarks. Good looking out, Miss Alma.

      Chester, when you’re done providing a taxi service and dusting for fingerprints, go by your partner’s place. Tell him I said he’d better get over the flu bug. I need both of you on nights for stuff like this.

      Yes, Sir. I will.

      Tyla hadn’t been in this part of the county. She could make out large, empty spaces in the darkness. Probably farms and fields. Once it was lights out, Willet’s Point went dark. The only lights were from oncoming cars. Only major roads had some form of lighting, which meant most of Willet’s Point was engulfed in midnight blue or pitch black until dawn. The yellow and white lane lines were painted with reflective paint and the signs were reflective as well. It helped her guide the way to the Pinkney place. Occasionally, she glanced at the GPS map just to be sure.

      In twenty-two minutes, she was driving down a long, straight I-shaped driveway. Several lights in the house were on. She noticed a woman wearing a raincoat with a housecoat or a nightgown hanging below it. The woman was standing underneath a lit overhang at the front door with her arms folded.

      Hmm, good old Alma must have called Ms. Pinkney, Tyla muttered. She also noticed the woman was pacing back and forth on the wide wooden front porch. Oh boy. She looks pissed off. Better smile a lot, she reminded herself as she pulled up and parked. She grabbed her hat as she left the patrol car and walked up the driveway. Good morning, Ma’am. I’m Deputy Chester. I’m afraid I have some not so good news, Ma’am.

      Valetta Pinkney’s eyes narrowed at the deputy approaching her porch. What took you so long to get here? Alma called me an eternity ago. Did you get lost? I’ve made the same drive in seventeen minutes. You’re five minutes overdue. She opened her arms wide. Anybody can see it’s late. There’s darkness all around. That means no traffic, Deputy. I hate lateness as much as I hate folks who steal. A person should work for what they get in this world and not just sneak in and take it! She glared at the deputy. Don’t just stand there. Say something.

      Tyla flushed every time she looked at Valetta Pinkney. She couldn’t help but notice a breast had worked its way out of whatever clothing she wore underneath the raincoat. And it was a pretty bronzy-brown breast with a deep cranberry nipple. Quite a handful came into her head. She looked down at her feet then began to play with the hat in her hands. She moved her olive-green hat round and round then ran a finger across the crease in the crown. Yes, Ma’am. I mean … no, Ma’am. She cleared her throat. So, ah … I mean, um. A ride to your store. Would you like it?

      Oh my God, are you high on something? Of course, I want a ride! Alma said you left that old man watching my shop. Did you think that was wise? Suppose the thieves return and shoot him so they can steal whatever they missed the first time. Valetta was growing angrier by the second. The deputy was acting so strange, not looking at her when she spoke and stumbling through her words. What kind of folks was Lenny Abrams hiring nowadays? She groaned at the deputy’s bowed head. Just come inside while I get dressed. Had I known you would be late, I could have been dressed! she snapped, turning around to march inside.

      Tyla sighed. So much for charm and manners, she muttered.

      Don’t be a smart-ass, Deputy. I hate mumbling wise-ass remarks when said by people who are supposed to be protectors.

      Jesus, she has the hearing of a bat too! Wonder where her broom is? Tyla remarked, rubbed the tension creeping into her neck.

      I heard that! Valetta called out. Better watch out. I might cast a spell on you if you come inside, Deputy Chester.

      I’ll just wait for you on your porch, Ma’am, Tyla replied, finding a bench to sit on. She discovered a glider and decided to exchange the bench for the glider.

      Well, fine then! Stay out there on the porch, Valetta yelled. She didn’t trust the mumbling, saying-smart-ass-things-under-her-breath deputy. She stomped upstairs, determined to call Alma as soon as she could find that cellphone of hers. If the deputy was any example of new hires, somebody needed to speak with the acting sheriff! Her cellphone rang as she reached her closet. Who was calling her now? It was very late or very early, depending on which side of the clock she viewed.

      Hello?

      Hi, Val. Is she there yet?

      Who, or rather, what did you send me, Alma? Does she really have all her faculties? If she’s an example of the new wave of deputies, gimme the old-fashioned ones instead. You know the ones I mean, Alma. The deputies who did their jobs politely and efficiently with no snide remarks said under their breath. No coming over here five minutes late and won’t even look me in the eye. Alma, she wouldn’t look me in the eye! I don’t trust a person who won’t look me in the eye. How do I know she didn’t break in and steal whatever was stolen?

      Alma held the screaming cellphone away from her ear with a grimace. Lord, what did Deputy Chester do to get a normally calm, sweet woman in a snit? She let Valetta wind down before saying anything to defend the deputy. She exhaled, praying that Leonard would stay gone in the men’s room for the next five minutes. I’m so sorry that happened to you, Val. Is there anything I can do to make it better?

      Valetta had placed the phone on the bed as she started to put on her underwear. I’m getting dressed, Alma. I’ll get back to you later after I’ve seen the damage. Bye.

      Meanwhile, downstairs, Tyla sat down and rocked back and forth. Nice. This is nice. She continued to glide back and forth until she grew a little sleepy. Her eyes drooped close. She was napping before she knew it. She’d still be asleep had her cellphone not awakened her.

      Deputy Chester, the owner of coffee shop just called me, fit to be tied. I can only express and warn you to be on your best behavior with her. Stick the topic at hand, which is the burglary. Give yes or no answers. They tend to be safer. Don’t do that curiosity thing you do with folks sometimes. Don’t ask those type of questions. And look her in the eyes when you answer her. She says you avoided looking at her and you mumbled something smart-alecky.

      Deputy Chester sat up quickly then rose from her comfortable seat on the glider. Yes, Ma’am.

      Is that a ‘yes ma’am I did it’ or ‘yes ma’am I agree with your suggestions’?

      Deputy Chester walked back and forth, twirling her hat with one hand while she held the phone pressed to her ear with the other. Which one keeps my butt in the driver’s seat and the badge on my chest?

      Valetta Pinkney snatched the twirling hat from the deputy’s hands. She smoothed down the deputy’s hair like a mother would do to her child. Then she placed the hat on the deputy’s head, adjusting her hair around it. She studied Deputy Chester’s flushing face as she held the cellphone to her ear. Tell your boyfriend—or maybe’s it’s your girlfriend; who can tell nowadays?—to hang up. You’ll be with him or her later. Right now, I want your complete attention.

      Alma started chuckling when she heard Valetta’s words in the background. She stayed on the phone just to hear more. Want me to pretend to be your lover, Deputy?

      Yes, Ma’am. I mean, no, Ma’am. I gotta go. Bye. With Alma’s laughter still ringing in her ears, Deputy Chester swiped off and slipped the phone into a back pocket.

      Arms folded, Valetta was impatiently tapping her foot, waiting for the deputy to make a move. Well, are you ready to go, Deputy Chester?

      Deputy Chester snatched her hat off and nodded. Yes, Ma’am. She watched the crime victim walk over to her then reached up to finger-comb her hair.

      Your hat messes up your hair when you snatch it off like that. Remove it more carefully and it won’t make you look so wild-eyed.

      No, Ma’am. Err… yes, Ma’am, I’ll be more careful with the hat. Tyla nervously gripped Valetta’s elbow to help her down the stairs. If you’ll just come with me to the patrol car, we can go to your premises.

      Ouch! Let go. You’re hurting me, Valetta remarked, trying to pull away then losing her balance and nearly falling off the porch. She landed against a sturdy chest and strong arms. For a moment, she welcomed the warm, comforting contact until she realized who was providing it. She pushed away, nearly falling again until the deputy saved her for the second time.

      Be still, Ma’am, Tyla remarked, holding Valetta steady. Gather your thoughts. Think your way to my car. Close your eyes and see the porch steps you must climb down. See the walkway, nice and even. Then see my car at the end of the rainbow, so to speak.

      Shit! I will not. Let go of me! Valetta pinched the strong arms holding her steady until they released her. I can climb up and down my own porch steps as I’ve been doing for over twelve years.

      Deputy Chester strode down the porch steps, snatching her hat from the wet ground where it had fallen. She slammed it onto her head then marched to the patrol car, holding the passenger door handle. She caught Valetta’s eye and pointed to the open door. I’m ready to go, Ma’am.

      Valetta locked up her house. She walked down the porch steps, then the walkway, and over to the patrol car.

      Get in so we can go and see the damage to your coffee shop, Ms. Pinkney, Deputy Chester remarked through clenched teeth as she watched the victim slip into the car, waiting for her to close the door.

      Yes. Let’s do that, Deputy.

      Deputy Chester removed her hat and threw it in the backseat.

      Lean towards me, Deputy.

      Deputy Chester started the car, preparing to make a U-turn to drive up the driveway. Nope. I like how my hair makes me look wild-eyed and scary.

      Valetta’s cheeks puffed out and she finally exploded in laughter. I said wild-haired. I never said you were scary. You have difficulty facing me. That makes you shifty-eyed. Which makes you untrustworthy, in my book.

      Deputy Chester groaned then exploded. She pulled off the road onto the shoulder. Then she turned to face her accuser, running nervous hands through her hair. Could you just be quiet for a minute? Your declarations are making me crazy. Please, Ma’am, try not to talk to me again. She glared at Valetta Pinkney, daring her to speak.

      Did you take any pictures of the damages? I’ll need them for my insurance policy. Valetta loved getting under the smart-mouth deputy’s skin. It felt good torturing the deputy a little tonight. She watched the tall deputy mutter something and then get out of the car to reach into her back pocket. The deputy climbed back inside, then slapped something into her lap and took off quickly. The car felt like a guided missile taking off: fast, low, and targeted. She gripped the door handle with one hand and the boxy contraption attached to the dashboard with the other hand. Must you drive so fast? Deputy, slow down.

      I swear I’m going the speed limit. Everything always seems faster in the passenger seat, Ma’am. Deputy Chester issued a tight, quick smile in her passenger’s direction. Look at the pictures of the damages to your store and you won’t have time to worry about my driving. Press the icon for videos.

      Valetta did as the deputy directed then gasped. Dear God! They broke my front door. Is that my new cash register dumped on the floor? It looks broken. Her mouth trembled. She was ready to cry. When she saw the broken lock to her office, the damage to the safe, and the broken lock on the supply room, she did cry quietly. Here, Ma’am, she heard the deputy murmur then felt a lacy hanky in her hand.

      Deputy Chester was surprised the woman knew how to cry. She seemed too mean-spirited to shed tears over anything. Blow your nose, Ma’am. Wipe your eyes. It’ll be fine. You have insurance. They’ll cover it. I couldn’t tell if they took anything from the supply room. They tried getting into the safe. You can see by the chisel marks they didn’t succeed. That’s good. Was there much cash in the register?

      Valetta wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She rubbed her temples. How could this happen? I haven’t been open very long. What am I supposed to tell my baker cum pastry chef, and my cashiers and my waitresses? Dear God, was anybody hurt? Was anybody there when it happened?

      Deputy Chester shook her head. No, Ma’am. I didn’t find any evidence of that. What time do you close during the week?

      Valetta exhaled. I close at eleven. Sometimes a little later at 11:15. On weekends, we close at midnight. Should I consider hiring a security guard?

      Let’s wait to see what the investigation turns up.

      You’re the investigator.

      Yes, Ma’am. When we get to the crime scene, don’t touch anything unless I say you can.

      Valetta rolled her eyes upward then saluted the deputy. Yes, Ma’am.

      Deputy Chester groaned. No need to salute me. Just do what I said, Ma’am.

      I’ll try. Although I must warn you, Deputy Chester. I’m not good at following orders other than mine. Valetta glanced at the deputy’s profile, waiting for a reaction. What? Nothing to say? No smart-ass retorts?

      Nope. I ran out of them hours ago, Ms. Pinkney. Deputy Chester sighed as they turned into the Cross Street Mall. Did I mention you owe Jock pastries for watching over your place, while I owe him a beer?

      2nd: Fingerprint time & reimbursing Jock.

      Deputy Chester pulled up and parked facing the shop. She left her headlights on, stepped outside, and then leaned into the passenger side. Wait here. I need to speak with Jock.

      And I need to hear what’s being said, Deputy.

      Why? Don’t you trust me?

      Nope, Valetta remarked, looking steadily into the deputy’s face. We’ve been over that before. You know I don’t. And you know the reasons why.

      I’m looking directly in your face. I haven’t said anything smart-ass in … Deputy Chester glanced at her pocket watch. Ten minutes or so. You should trust me.

      Open the door for me, Deputy, or move out of the way.

      Deputy Chester rolled her eyes and then opened the door, offering a hand, which Valetta smacked.

      I’m fine, Deputy Chester. Valetta turned to look at the damaged front door clearly visible under the patrol car’s headlights. Oh God. She walked over to the door, ready to touch it, when the deputy behind her scolded her.

      No touching of stuff. Deputy Chester pulled out latex gloves. Wear these. You can touch all you want with these on. However, let me walk you through the premises, agreed? She watched the victim pull on the gloves. Let’s go. Watch the glass on the floor. She pointed to cash register lying on its side. Did it have money in it?

      Valetta sighed. I hope not. The head cashiers are supposed to deposit it in the bank or lock it in the safe until the next morning. She squatted down to look at the register with the drawers hanging out and guts partly stripped down. One thing I’ll have to replace. She sighed then walked to the office to flip on the circuit breaker and turn the lights on. On the way back to the main area, she noted graffiti on the walls. The thieves had slit chairs seats and broken table legs. The booths were slashed as well.

      Deputy Chester looked around the main area with wide, disbelieving eyes. Shit, I thought it was just a break in. This looks like more.

      Jock frowned. I didn’t hear none of it, Miss Val. I was here cleaning round two, a little before the deputy come to the buffet door. I didn’t think to look at nothing. If I’d known, I woulda call the sheriff myself.

      Valetta sighed, walking over to him, crunching the broken glass shards under foot. She squeezed his narrow shoulder. It’s okay, Jock. I know you didn’t have anything to do with this. You come by soon as we get the place cleaned up and open again. You get as many pastries as you want. Thank you for staying here to keep an eye on things.

      Jock grinned. No skin off my nose. Deputy, okay if I go back to finish cleaning now?

      Deputy Chester walked over and shook his hand. When should I bring that beer to you?

      Tonight is good. I love my beer. I don’t drink and drive.

      I can stop by the buffet on my break.

      Jock sighed.

      Or I could stop by your house in the morning when I’m off duty.

      Jock grinned broadly. I’d like that. Just ask Alma for my address.

      Not a problem. Deputy Chester watched him limp back to the buffet and unlock the door and go inside.

      You know he has a drinking problem. Buying him beer wasn’t the greatest idea, Valetta remarked, studying the deputy. Under the bright lights of the coffee shop, the deputy looked younger than she acted.

      That’s what he wanted. That’s what he gets. Deputy Chester inhaled then exhaled. I need to get my fingerprint kit. Will you be okay in here?

      What’s going to hurt my place? The damage is already done. If you need me, I’ll be checking supplies or in my office doing the same.

      Keep the gloves on, Ms. Pinkney. Deputy Chester strode out to the patrol car to open the trunk. She decided to call dispatch. Alma?

      Are you at the crime scene?

      Once the lights were turned on, it’s worse than I thought. I’m sending the sheriff the first video. I’ll make an update now. They cut up the seats, broke table legs, slit the booths. There’s graffiti on the walls too. The place was trashed.

      Does it look like gang graffiti? Acting Sheriff Abrams interrupted to ask.

      I don’t know. I’d have to compare it the samples we have in the office. Deputy Chester sighed. Sir, I called because I thought maybe we could send somebody from the lumberyard or one of the yard and garden places to plywood the missing door panel until her insurance agent comes out.

      In the morning at the end of your tour, we could do that. All the stores should be open. Until then, you’re it. That’s your post until you hear different.

      Yes, Sir.

      Since that’s your post, take pictures of the graffiti and send ‘em to us. Dust for fingerprints too.

      Yes, Sir, I was taking the kit out of the trunk to do that. She wondered if Alma relayed Ms. Pinkney’s complaints about her yet. He didn’t sound any more annoyed than normal. She didn’t know what she did that annoyed him. She noted how she managed to get under his skin a lot.

      Call dispatch if you encounter any other problems, Deputy.

      Yes, Sir. I will. Deputy Chester brought the kit to the coffee shop’s entry door. She examined the door and took out a small container of black powder and a brush. She barely dipped the tip of the bristles into the powder, then, using a swirling motion, she lightly spread the powder along the door handle. She found two good prints of a thumb and ring finger on the handle. On the broken glass still hanging from the frame, she found a palm print.

      Inside the coffee shop, she found more prints on the cash register drawers and the sides of the register. On the office door lock and the safe, she found partial prints. She studied all the doors, squinting at them from a distance and then up close. She could see boot prints where somebody kicked in doors. When she sorted through the front door’s broken glass, putting pieces together, she found boot prints that looked similar to the ones on the office door and supply doors. She stood up, studying the broken glass pieces for a moment.

      What are you looking at?

      Boot prints, I think. She pulled out her cellphone, then placed a dollar on the pieces of glass she’d put together with the boot print and took several pictures at different angles.

      Why the dollar bill?

      To give the photo scale. Deputy Chester walked back to the other doors. Ms. Pinkney, come hold the dollar bill next to the other prints. I need to take more pictures. She watched Valetta hold the dollar bill against the boot prints, standing at an angle so only her gloved hand appeared in the picture. Thanks for the assist. Was anything missing in the supply room or the other rooms?

      Not that I could see. I know why they sliced up my seats and booths and destroyed the tables.

      Why? Deputy Chester asked while she took pictures of the graffiti on the walls and the sliced-up and broken furniture.

      There was no money in the register. It was deposited in the bank earlier tonight. There was money in the safe they couldn’t open. I keep a couple of thousand in there for emergency purposes and to make change. I bet they were pissed off when they couldn’t find any money. They did as much damage as they could to my place as punishment for no money.

      Deputy Chester shrugged. That’s an interesting theory. I’ll be sure to pass it on to the sheriff.

      Are you being a wise-ass again? Your face says you are, Valetta remarked, studying the deputy’s bright eyes. The deputy couldn’t resist smirking at her. When she called her out on the bullshit, the deputy’s hazel eyes twinkled with pretend innocence. She sucked her teeth. I found something to block the broken door panel. Help me carry it out here.

      Now you want my help, huh? Deputy Chester noticed that Valetta had removed her jacket. She noticed once again how shapely Valetta was with her long brown legs and her toned arms. When Valetta turned around to stride to the back of the shop, her backside swayed nicely in the dress she wore. Then she remembered Valetta Pinkney was a victim, not a promising or potential date.

      Just follow me, Deputy Chester. Leave the sarcasm in the trash can where it belongs.

      Deputy Chester sighed. Valetta Pinkney was right. She was tired and she was taking it out on the victim. Yes, Ma’am, she remarked, following her. Minutes later, she returned carrying a large thick sheet of plasterboard. It was large, heavy, and awkward to haul from the supply room down the hallway and into the main room, but she was managing to do it alone. It was a point of pride to show Valetta Pinkney she was strong. She set it down in the hallway to rest a minute and wipe her sweaty brow. They both heard noises in the front of the shop. Stay behind me, Ms. Pinkney, she ordered in a hard voice. She felt Valetta Pinkney’s warm breath against the back of her neck. Stay here, okay?

      Dear God. Are they back to do more damage?

      I hope not, Deputy Chester remarked, unsnapping her holster to pull out her gun as she moved quietly forward, sliding against the wall. With the lights on, she made the perfect target. She bent down to reduce her target size. She aimed the gun at the large, muscular woman standing in the doorway.

      Hey, hey, take it easy, Deputy. The large woman slowly set the toolbox down and raised her hands. Don’t shoot. I come in peace, Tyla.

      Deputy Chester had taken a two-hand stance, aiming her weapon at the big woman’s center mass. How do you know my name?

      Duh, I live here. Everybody knows the gay deputy.

      What do you want? Keep your hands up and turn around. Deputy Chester kept the gun aimed at the woman’s broad chest as she turned around. Lift up your jacket. As the woman lifted her jacket, Valetta Pinkney marched over to join the deputy.

      Must you be so dramatic, Deputy Chester? Anybody can see she’s harmless. Put your gun away. Read the sign on her truck. It matches the label on back of her jacket. She’s in construction, just like her truck says.

      The big woman had turned around to see who the throaty voice belonged to. Her eyes widened and she smiled. Alma said she might appreciate getting the work. She didn’t say why. Yes, I am. My cousin Alma said the deputy could use some help with securing the store. You must be the store’s owner. Ms. Pinkney.

      Yes, that’s right. I was just about to have the deputy use the wall board to replace the glass for now.

      Please lead the way, Ms. Pinkney. Show me what you have. The big woman grinned broadly at Valetta. Her handsome face revealed dimples and a cleft chin. She was used to charming women. Valetta Pinkney was no exception. She watched Valetta’s hands flutter to her throat first and then to pat her short, neat relaxed bob haircut. She followed Valetta’s swaying, fully shaped backside into the next room. Without realizing Valetta had stopped, she bumped into her, nearly knocking her to floor but catching her at the last minute. She kept a strong forearm around Valetta, pulling her backward. Sorry about that. I didn’t realize you stopped. My mind was on something else. Ask me what I was thinking about.

      Valetta enjoyed the woman’s comforting warmth and solidness, if only for a minute. How would I know what’s on your mind? I don’t know you.

      Would you like to get to know me, Ms. Valetta Pinkney? The big woman leaned down to sniff Valetta’s neck. Hmm. Love that scent you’re wearing.

      It’s called O’de sweat.

      That’s even better. We could make more of it when I take you to my bed.

      Who says I’m interested in you? Valetta felt a thumbpad moving across her chest and bit into her lower lip to keep from moaning.

      You haven’t pushed me away. You didn’t get mad when I touched you, Val Pinkney, the big woman whispered close to Valetta’s right ear. My cousin said I’d appreciate getting this job if you hired me. She didn’t tell me why. Guess what?

      Valetta finally moaned softly when she felt the woman’s crotch rubbing into her hips. What?

      After meeting you, I’d do this job for free just so I could see you. When I finish sealing and securing your doors and your locks, I’ll take you to breakfast.

      I don’t even know your name, and you’ve got me so hot, I wanna take you into my office and let nature take its course. Valetta moaned again when both large hands touched her again. O-o-oh, Muscle Girl, she whispered hoarsely.

      Do you like this?

      Tell me your name. I need to know who’s doing me, Valetta rasped.

      The big woman chuckled then suddenly stepped away to compose herself. She wiped at the sweat then removed her jacket and her sweatshirt until she was down to a thin undershirt, which showed off her muscular chest and tanned arms. She studied the excited woman in front of her, watching her every move.

      It’s Declan Houston. Folks around here call me Dex. She noted how Valetta’s firm glistening brown breasts looked ready to burst out of the dress she wore. Valetta had unfastened the top two buttons on her dress to cool off. You should go in the other room with the deputy so I can get some work done. She adjusted her fly, praying her boxers would unstick themselves without her help.

      Meanwhile, Deputy Chester’s shoulder radio jerked to life. Deputy Chester here.

      There’s been an accident on Route 59. One of the drivers reported it.

      How bad?

      We can’t tell. The driver’s radio cut off mid-sentence. Did my cousin show up yet?

      Big girl … big as a damned house with an attitude to beat the band? Tyla remarked. Yeah, she’s in the back with Ms. Prissy.

      Alma giggled. You sound a bit jealous, Tyla.

      How could I be jealous? I’m not interested in that evil-mouthed woman or the big girl with her in the back.

      Val thinks you’re the one with the insensitive tongue. Anyway, she’s too old for you. I have a large family with plenty of cousins of all shades and ethnicities. Say the word, and I’ll introduce you to several of them.

      Tyla lowered her voice as she spoke into her radio. She sighed. We shouldn’t be having this conversation over the radio, Alma.

      I know, Tyla. I think you should have somebody in your life. I want to help that happen. Just say the word and leave it up to the matchmaker extraordinaire.

      Tyla groaned then scratched her head. Gotta go, Alma. I’ll report back when I arrive.

      That’s a roger.

      Deputy Chester marched to the rear, spotting the two women locked in a serious embrace near the office. She rolled her eyes heavenward. She returned to the coffee shop’s front door deep in thought. I didn’t know the victim was like that. She seemed hard to approach. Hmm. Maybe she was acting like that for me. Ms. Pinkney, I’m leaving. Better secure the door, okay? she called out. Okay?

      Yeah, sure, Deputy. We’re fine back here, Declan Houston called out. She grinned at Valetta Pinkney then winked. Very fine, in fact.

      Humph! Never mind giving me that look, Valetta said, smoothing her hands down her dress. How about you fix my damages first, then we will talk about other things, Ms. Houston. I’m tired. I should be home in bed fast asleep, not trading quips with you or smart-ass remarks with the deputy. Get to work. Okay? she snapped more briskly than she meant. She sighed and rubbed at the tension in her temples. Sorry for my behavior. I’m not used to finding my coffee shop in this state.

      Declan nodded. I got you covered. Your baby will be secure in an hour or so.

      Valetta exhaled. Thank you.

      3rd: Jodi’s hit and run. She died. Now it’s murder.

      Meanwhile, Deputy Sheriff Chester was making a discovery of another kind. She was driving slowly along Route 59 looking for the scene of the accident. She’d been up and down one of the main arteries leading to Willet’s Point and leading out of it too. She pulled over and went to her radio.

      Dispatch, this is Deputy Chester.

      Yes, Deputy? Acting Sheriff Abrams answered.

      Are you sure on the location of the accident? I’ve been up and down Route 59. I haven’t found it yet. Did they give you a mile-marker?

      Let me check Alma’s notes. The sheriff sorted through Alma’s day planner and dated post-it notes. He grinned when he found it. Ah, here it is. Yep, the call came in at 0415AM. No mile-marker was noted. Caller cut off in mid-sentence.

      Was it a male or female caller, Sir?

      Her notes don’t say. I could call and ask her.

      Nah. It’s her day off. Let her enjoy it. I’ll keep looking.

      How did securing the store go?

      It’s being secured as we speak. Alma sent her cousin the weightlifter to do it.

      The sheriff laughed. You met Declan Houston, huh? He heard his deputy clear her throat. What happened?

      I might have pulled a gun on her because I heard a noise while I was in the back taking pictures of boot prints. I thought the thieves might have returned.

      Is that all? You didn’t arrest her, did you?

      No, Sir.

      Did you rough her up?

      No, Sir. I don’t do that kind of thing.

      How about frisking her?

      No, Sir. I didn’t see the need.

      Was she annoyed with your reactions?

      No, Sir. Ms. Pinkney thought I over-reacted. She might file a complaint.

      If or when she does, I’ll handle it. Go ahead with your search. Stop by your partner’s house on the way back to the station, huh?

      Yes, Sir. I will. Deputy Chester hung up the patrol radio, turned on her flashers, and stepped outside after she pulled on a neon safety vest. She flashed her flashlight around the dirt of the shoulder and the ditch that ran alongside it. She kept walking and shining her light in the grassy ditch and into the surrounding wooded area.

      She walked and shined, walked and shined until she’d walked a mile away from her patrol car. She heard something. Rustling and whimpering? She squatted down, noting tire tracks had left their marks on the shoulder then near the ditch and back on the shoulder one hundred feet away. Her flashlight picked up a blood trail. Shit. She followed the blood droppings and discovered a body dressed in dark clothing. She checked for a pulse at the person’s neck. It was there.

      Dispatch, I’ve got an emergency. Send a bus to Route 59, mile-marker 300. She carefully searched the body for ID. She pulled out a wallet from the front of school jacket pocket. It’s a kid. Sheriff, his or her name is Jodi Montoya. She swore she felt something wet when she pulled out the ID.

      Jodi Montoya? I know that name. It’s a family of six girls … stair-steps kids. One just as cute as the next. What’s she doing out there this time of night?

      Call for a bus. There’s blood on her head and neck. She flashed a light on the still form. Maybe other places too. I can’t see well enough. I’m afraid to roll her. The radio clicked off. Dispatch? Deputy Chester sighed. Do I go for my patrol car and leave you here, Jodi? Or do I wait with you? she asked aloud. She heard soft groaning. She patted an outstretched hand. Easy now. Try not to move. You’ve been hurt, Jodi.

      Where?

      I’m Deputy Chester. We’re waiting for an ambulance. I called it in. It should be here soon.

      Where?

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