then she wrote: "see detective zimmerman as soon as you can
carlee, he knows everything."
nurse eversole appeared with a unit of blood in her hand, and as
she hung it, i asked: "how many does that make?"
"this is her fourth unit miss." gosh, lissell did lose a
lot of blood. i kissed her on the cheek, and took the piece of paper
from the clip board.
"i'll be back early in the morning lissell, you get a good
night's rest, and get better." she attempted to smile. i really
felt better about things as i walked out the door. brianna and margo
looked as if they were arguing as i past the waiting room. brianna was
so cute, i would just like to set her on my mantle piece for a couple
of days, to stare at her if i wanted. margo could stay at home though.
i got in my car and drove to the river, it was quite dark and very
foggy downtown. i drove slowly and stopped at the park. the ohio is a
beautiful river, though i'm partial to the green, which in spring has
colorful sternwheeler races and lots of other festivities. the belle
of louisville and the delta queen are two boats often seen here, john
hartford sang about them. the park was empty tonight, it was late. the
river was very inticing, the banks of the ohio are flat and sandy,
unlike the green- which are deep and muddy. in downtown louisville,
the river is close to a mile in width, a lovely and intricate bridge
joins kentucky and indiana, not too far from where i was standing, i
could hear the traffic. i suddenly had a strong urge to take my shoes
and socks off and walk on the large sandbar below. i knew that i
shouldn't, at this hour, but i wanted to anyway.
while i walked barefoot in the sand, i thought. i knew that leroy
had to be brought down, and this was as close as we were ever going to
be, i just couldn't leave louisville now, no matter how badly dad and
mikey wanted me to. plus, i had made friends here, friends that i
would hate to lose, and lissell probably wasn't out of the woods yet,
four units of blood is a lot. oftentimes the brain suffers when
haemoglobin gets critically low; she seemed alright tonight, but who
knows what tomorrow will bring.
"hey you! is this your stuff?" god! i saw a figure above
holding up my shoes and socks.
"yeah, and put them down!" i shouted.
"i'm captain zimmerman carlee, please come up, we need to
talk."
detective harry zimmerman was tall dark and professional. i grabbed
my shoes and socks from his hand and sat down in the grass to put them
back on. "do you often do foolish things like this carlee?"
he asked.
"like what?"
"like walking around on a river bank all by yourself at one in
the morning."
"sure, sometimes."
"it ain't safe miss, you have to know that."
"well maybe you'd better tell me where the fuck safe is then."
i said, indignantly.
"lincoln nebraska, probably."
"i thought cops like you made cities safe for us harry?"
he smiled.
"if there were three thousand more like me maybe." he
wasn't so bad.
"is the pool room open over there?" i pointed.
"why, are you going to challange me to a round?"
"maybe, i'm ready for beer and shots and nine ball maybe."
zimmerman laughed.
"if i give you that, will you talk with me, seriously?"
"sure."
captain zimmerman had parked next to my car in a blue, unmarked
ford victoria. i got in and the aroma of new overwhelmed me. "nice."
i said.
"your car smells like stale cigarettes and oil." he said.
"well gee, thanks. you break into my car?"
"just for a moment, wanted to see how many miles were on it."
"hope they were satisfactory to you harry."
"unbelievable." he replied. when he started the car up, i
could barely tell it was running. "do you know colonel harlan
sanders?" he asked.
"no." i answered.
"he was a little old man from corbin, kentucky, when he was
sixty-five and retired, he opened this little restaurant in his
hometown and specialized in chicken, fried very differently. he had
invented a device that actually was an oil pressure cooker. a
combination of herbs and spices, and bam, he became a billionaire."
"i'm sure it wasn't that easy." i interjected. harry
smiled.
"probably not, but it worked well for him anyway." kfc, i
could live on it, and die from it, grease under pressure, god, i wish
he hadn't told me that.
detective zimmerman drove to the rather elite side of louisville,
on the east side. the homes were mansions, none under ten thousand
square feet. he pulled up into the driveway of one of the largest, it
was white stone, all lit up. two huge concrete lions guarded the
entrance.
"when i get rich and famous, i'm going to have lions just like
these." i said. harry smiled. he punched a code into a hand held
device, and the large steel gates opened.
"home again, home again." i chided.
as we drove up the long driveway to the magnificent house, he asked-
"how are you going to get rich and famous carlee?" i raised
an eyebrow and smiled. i liked this detective zimmerman. he stopped
the car and we walked up to the front door.
"i'll bet that door cost a thousand dollars." i said.
"it's ebony with silver trim carlee, try five thousand."
gulp; the inside entrance was fantastic, i had never seen such a place
in my entire life.
"gosh, how many rooms does this place have harry?"
"fifty something, a dozen bedrooms, three well stocked
kitchens, all the normal stuff." he laughed.
"and where do we get our drinks?"
"follow me." he said. we walked about a mile on the first
floor and detective zimmerman opened the door to the billiard room for
me. the room was luxurious, there were more pool tables than there
were at bernie's pool room. a huge red velvet sectional lay in one
corner, it sat like a dream. harry walked across the room and returned
with two large brandy sniffers, two churchill downs shot glasses, a
bottle of bourbon, and two cans of beer. he set them on a coffee table
in front of the couch, filled the shot glasses with bourbon, placed
them inside the sniffers, covered them with beer.
"beer and shots. just like you ordered." you don't sip
drinks like this, you inhale them. they are not designed to taste
good, the effects are what counts. we tipped glasses, then downed our
drinks, the fucking shot glass hit my front teeth.
"damn!"
"are you alright?"
"oh, yeah, just drank too fast." i said.
"you're a funny girl carlee. i'm glad you came with me, the
river's a dangerous place."
"oh, i was ok harry, you worry too much."
"not enough really, in my line of work."
"can i take my shoes and socks off?"
"are your feet sandy?"
"you bet." i answered.
"wait just a minute then." he headed off across the room.
i ventured over to a pool table, the drink had made me warm, and my
gait was off. i pulled the protective cover off a rather large pool
table. no pockets! harry returned with a wash cloth and towel.
"over here pretty one. well, what did you expect from a
billiard room?" he sat me down and loosened my shoe strings, took
my shoes and socks off and rubbed my feet gently with a dampened
cloth, so gently, as if they were birds. "colonel sanders was an
uncle to my ex-wife, in case you're wondering." i was silent. "she
didn't inherit much of his personal fortune, but she and twenty other
nieces and nephews got keys to this house. she didn't ask for it back
when we divorced."
"are you through ravishing my feet harry?"
"not quite," he answered. "they're still wet, and
haven't been kissed." he dried them with the towel, then kissed
them softly, i liked that. he rubbed the top of them and i wanted to
purr. "you need another drink?" he asked as he kissed my
cheek.
"yeah, i believe i do." he returned with two beers. "no
shots?" i asked.
"for myself carlee, i don't need one."
"i suppose i don't either." he snapped the pop top, and
handed one to me.
"we have to talk carlee, you do know that."
"i know harry, and i'm ready."
"you look like teri hatcher, you know that?"
"no, i don't know that, and neither does anyone else."
"i think you do."
"is leroy going to get off free harry?"
"i hope not angel, but a lot depends on you. first of all, i
hope you got that very important evidence back where you found it."
"i did."
"and you weren't seen, by anyone?"
"no i'm sure i wasn't."
"here's what we have carlee. leo killed your friend in bowling
green, then the cop who hit you. two years later he went to trenton,
new jersey, and killed starlyn, whom you also knew. the deaths
portrayed in his journal and still under heavy investigation, and of
course mr. gray, another link to you."
"gosh, i'm pretty involved, aren't i?"
"yes, you are carlee. you will be the key witness when the
details are worked out and he goes to trial."
"i'm not sure i want that harry."
"you have no choice carlee." he said.
"i know." i sadly said.
"the evidence should be in the department's hands by now.
leroy is being held on one hundred thousand bond, but he's hired a
very expensive lawyer from lexington. if something doesn't happen
within a week, well, i can make no promises."
"won't the department get in touch with the bowling police?"
i asked.
"yes, tomorrow, but i'm afraid everything's fairly
circumstancial at this time. your appearance on the witness stand will
be the most impressive thing in the case. he's told you things,
according to lissell, those statements will count, under oath. if we
can get a grand jury indictment, we will have time to put the pieces
together."
"sounds complicated."
"it is complicated carlee, we all have to be attorneys as well
as policemen these days. now, finish your beer and either bed down
here with me, or i'll drive you to your car."
"as much as i'd like to stay here harry, i really need to get
home.
my old car was still parked where i'd left it, damn, a town full of
murderers and thieves and nobody attempts to steal my car.
"will you kiss me carlee?" harry asked.
"of course i will officer." he kissed very nice.
"drive safely angel."
"i will." i answered.
as i walked up my stairs, i thought i heard noises in my apartment.
as i got closer, it was the television. what in the hell was my tv
doing on after two in the morning? i opened the door, and there set
andy in front of the tube.
"where the hell have you been?" he asked.
"how the hell did you get in?"
"it was open."
"bullshit! i never leave my door open."
"i swear honey, it was standing wide open at eleven pm."
"i need a drink." i said. i went to the kitchen area and
made a jim dandy; sat down in the mayflower chair, and kicked my shoes
off. "god andy, what a day."
"bad one carlee?"
"yeah. and how." i answered.
"carlee, ah, our horse, andy's babe. he had a bad day too."
"he didn't win!" i shouted.
"now take it easy, it's not all bad. he was 12 lengths ahead
in the stretch, made record time, then his jockey pulled back on the
reins and he finished second."
"wow, that makes my day andy, i bet every nickel i could spare
on that race, my bank account's in deep shit."
"you remember mr. laverne anderson, "pork pie"?"
"sure."
"he was at the bookie joint, we watched the race together. he
said that a lot of money had been bet on andy's babe, a lot, and if he
won, a bunch of money would have changed hands, and he would be in a
lot of trouble. he refunded my bet, and told me to tell you not to
worry about yours, said 'shit happens' and for you not to worry."
"shit does happen." i said as i finished my drink. "boy,
does shit happen." i was utterly exhausted.
i woke up and andy had me completely undressed, he was at my
chest-of-drawers returning with pajamas. "what time is it?"
i sleepily asked.
"after three am darling, you fell asleep." i felt wet
between my legs. andy struggled to put my top on and button it.
"was i any good?" i smiled.
"carlee, i would never take advantage of you like that."
he sounded insulted. i reached down and put two fingers inside of me.
very slippery.
"you want to andy?"
"if you do baby."
"yeah, i think i would like to feel you inside of me. the end
to a less than perfect day." either i fell back asleep, or andy
undressed as fast as superman. he had a condom on. "i take the
pill andy." i smiled.
"you're bleeding carlee."
"so, you need a raincoat for that?" he pushed it in, i
was sprawled in the mayflower chair in a truly obscene position, but
it worked for me. pre-ragtime orgasms were always very special for me,
and very easy. poor andy was a fair only lover, very vocal, which i
didn't mind, and very quick on the trigger. i could feel him swelling
and hear him panting, the neighbors could hear him, if i had any. he
came and the dam broke.
"get a towel and a box of tampax!" i cried. andy pulled
out leaving the condom inside of me. he returned softly and wetly with
my request.
"sorry baby." he said, as i sopped up a more than ample
supply of O neg and easily inserted a lovely tampon. i was sure i
wasn't the only girl to start her period in the ancient chair. i
almost laughed.
"hey, here's your raincoat andy."
"thanks, i may reuse it."
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