Sylvia 22

Sylvia 22

I was right, there was no one as cool as Lieutenant Bullet in the Motel lounge that Saturday night.  I really might not have been in any shape for a new man anyway.  I sat gingerly and tried not to squirm in my seat.  In other words my rectum was a wreck.

I went to bed after my lounge walk through, even though I had only been awake a few hours.  Again I slept like I had been drugged.  Hell who knows with that crowd, I might have been drugged.

Sunday morning when I woke up it was all better.  My head was clear and my rectum had a stinging sensation but no outright pain, so I considered myself more or less okay.  I found that after a shower I could walk without pain, so even though I had a good excuse, I decided to run a half hour anyway.  I could always stop anytime I felt like it.

I ran through the back streets and alleys as usual.  I ran across a domestic cat who seemed to have gone ferel. I made sure she wasn’t injured, but I didn’t feel her,  How did I know it was a her, she smiled at me.  All us unattached women have a connection.

I stopped at the cafe on the square and told my waitress friend to report the cat, but not to be any any hurry.  “She might just wander out of town again,” I suggested.

All day Sunday I searched for Steve McQueen movies to download.  It was as good a way to spend a ‘recovery’ Sunday as any.  By evening I had found and watched two movies and eaten a frozen dinner for lunch.  

I drove the Toyota out to the plaza at the interstate for dinner.  Even at the plaza the choices were few.  There was a Chinese buffet, so I gave it a shot.  In the end it was mostly fried rice and an egg roll for me.

Getting hard looks all the time took a bit of getting used to, but I managed.  Cutting my hair as short as I did was probably a huge mistake.  I personally didn’t care, but it sure make other people uncomfortable.

When I got back after dinner, I made a quick walk through the lounge, then headed back to my room to get more sleep.  I still had a day off left, so I needed to decide how to spend it.  I ran several things through my mind, but nothing hit me as exciting.  I stripped to my panties and tee, then slipped into bed.  

I almost fell asleep before the phone rang.  I had turned off my cell phone, so I knew it had to be the room phone.  “Hello, I said when I finally found it.

“Sylvia, this is Deputy Simpson,” the voice on the phone said.

“What can I do for you detective?” I asked.

“I know you have tomorrow off, I checked with your sergeant,” He said.

“Yes Simpson thanks for calling to tell me, but I already knew that.”  I was enjoying that he was uncomfortable.

“Right, well I have some follow up planned for Gypsy.  Since you are part of the threatened lawsuit, I wondered if you would like to ride along on the interviews.  We can call it voluntary training and then the department wouldn’t have to do time swaps.  You would lose a couple of hour of your life, but if you are like me, you have more than enough to spare a couple of hours.”

“What time are you planning this excursion?” I asked.

“Nothing too early, we want to give the locals time to wake up and start moving.  Why don’t I pick you up around eleven in the morning.”  

“Sure, like you said, I can spare a couple of hours.”  After Simpson hung up I wasn’t tired any longer, so I walked to the lounge to check on something.

“Sarah, tell me, did that Gypsy Austin and her husband ever come in here?” I asked when Sarah had a minute to talk.

“Not the husband but Gypsy was in a time or two.  Before you ask, I don’t remember her coming or leaving with anyone.  I was busy and at the time she was just another chick on the make,” Sarah said.

“How do you know she was on the make?” I asked.

“She let men pay for her drinks that and just being here alone is enough to convince me.  Then again, I have been hanging around here too long.” Sarah said.

“I would expect your instincts to be better than mine.  So tell me anyone in particular I should talk to about her?” I asked.

The few times she came in I’m pretty sure she left alone, who she met is a different matter.  Lots of married folks leave here alone, but don’t go home, if you know what I mean?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I said.  So she played around on her husband,  Maybe she needed that split lip.  Well I wouldn’t think so, but maybe her husband did for sure.  I wondered if Gypsy was capable of killing them both.  It wasn’t my case, so I planned to let Simpson find all the facts.  I was satisfied to just be along for the ride.  After all, Gypsy had tried to play me as well as Simpson.  I would not mind seeing her go down for all of it.  

“See that guy with the flag bandanna on  his head?” Sarah asked.

“You mean the one with the doo rag?” I asked in return.

“Yeah him, I seen him buy her more than one drink, more than one time.  He might know something.” Sarah said.

“Well, I won’t ask him here, if you can tell me where I can find him with the sun is shinning?” I suggested.

“He fixes cars, I’m not sure what his specialty is but his shop is on the road to Dobson.  He rides a Harley chopper.  I am sure it will be parked out front, it’s kind of a sign I think.  He told me once, if I needed anything to head toward Dobson and look for the Harley chopper outside his shop,” Sarah said.

“Damn it’s way too cold for a motorcycle,” I suggested.

“Not if you are a real man sweetie,” he said.  He must have noticed us glancing at him and decided to walk over.  If he overheard that, I wondered how much he had heard.  “I seen you before in here.  They tell me you are a deputy.”  

I nodded.  

“So why did you shave your head?” he asked seriously.

“Sand Fleas,” I said smiling.

“Ain’t been no sand fleas here for months,” he informed me.

“Now you tell me,” I said.

He removed his doo rag then said, “I like your style.”  I saw his shaved head as he grinned really big for me.

“Well it is nice to chat, but I need sleep.  Maybe we will meet again,” I said.

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” he replied with that grin again.

“So, I’m sure there is something other than cue-ball you would like for me to call you,” I suggested.

He laughed out loud.  “Well most of my friends call me Monk,” he suggested.

“So do both of them call you that?” I asked.

“Yes they do Deputy Porter,” he answered.  I knew that I hadn’t told him my name.

“Well, if I’m going to call you Monk, I guess you should call me Sylvia,” I said not sure what I was starting.  If he called me Sylvia in front of Simpson, I might have a problem.  Especially if he was guilty of something.

“Well good night Monk,” I said.

“Sleep well Sylvia Porter,” Monk said quietly.  “If you need anything just ask.”

“I’ll do that,” I said.

As usual when my mind was occupied I found it easier to sleep.  Most people say the opposite is true.  If I lay down with no real problem for my mind to work on, I lay there trying to find something to think about.  It is maddening at times.  Thankfully it wasn’t a problem that night.  I drifted right into the land of sweet dreams without any effort at all.

Monday morning even though I sleep a couple of hours longer than usual, I still had time for a run, damn it.  I didn’t spot any crimes in progress, no signs of a crime from the night before, and no stray animals.  I did pass a homeless guy who walked the streets winter and summer, I had been told.  I had so far missed summer in the county seat.

I also skipped the cafe that morning.  I had decided to half ass fast for a while.  I was going to skip breakfast and lunch.  It was the easiest way for me to diet.  My ass was getting even wider riding in that damn patrol car.  I didn’t even stop for coffee, since my coffee from the night before was better tasting than that crappy restaurant blend.

I was dressed and searching the web for a place to download the move, ‘The Blob.’  It was a different kind of cult classic.  So low budget that it was hard to find more than a reference to it here and there.  Nobody seemed to have it for download.  I was pretty sure that if I kept looking it would show up.

Instead of the blob, I got Detective Simpson.  I saw him pull into the parking lot.  I could have gone out to meet him, but I decided to let him climb the stairs to my studio apt style one room.

Simpson might have worked out, since some cops do.  He was just a little over weight.  Desk jobs tend to do that to people.  Both male and female cops tend to do better in the field, but not all of us.  Simpson wasn’t really tall more like an inch below average.  He was probably weight proportional for that slightly taller average guy.  His hair was just a little dull and headed toward gray.  It wouldn’t be unusual, he was at least ten years older than me, I though.

“You ready,” he asked when I opened the door.

“Just as soon as the microwave beeps we can go,” I said.  “I have a very large cup of very good coffee in there,”

“Oh designer coffee?” Simpson asked.

“A blend of three grocery store brands make one day and left in the refrigerator over night then reheated all the next day,” I said.

“Shit day old coffee, that was one taste I never acquired while I was in crotch,” he said.

“Where were you?” I asked.  

“Somewhere in Europe.  Since then the names have been changed to protect the guilty,” he said.

“Yeah, a lot of that going around again,” I said.  The beep came, so I opened the micro wave and put a sippy cup lid on the thick plastic delta style cup.  “Now we can go,”

I was dressed in conservative jeans, a green tee shirt and my field jacket.  I looked a lot like a biker chick especially with the bald head.

“You know I’m good at not showing my surprise, but someone should have warned me about that shaved head,” Simpson said.  “You do know that the Sheriff isn’t going to like it.”

“The dress code said hair no longer than collar length.  It never said anything about shaved heads,” I replied.

“Silvia, who would have ever expected a sane woman to do that.  Never mind it doesn’t bother me now.  The first few minutes are really confusing, but now it’s fine.  You just really do look like a dike,” he said.

“Careful you have enough harassment complaints already,” I said it with a laugh.  “So where we going first?”

“I’m thinking daughter’s teacher and the neighbors,” he said.  I really thought about giving him a heads up on the lounge.  I wanted to suggest we talk to the sister again.  Someone had to babysit for her daughter.  But I decided to keep my mouth shut till he either figured it out or ran out of viable options.

About cindypress

sorry it is a mystery.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Sylvia 22

  1. Walt says:

    Interesting that Monk knew she was a Deputy and knew her first and last name. Guess something will be coming of this.
    Added Monk to Cast.
    narimasu.net/stories/carniegirl.htm

    • cindypress says:

      That situation is from a time when I was much younger and I found out how little privacy we have. In a club every know a bit of information and if someone takes the time she can put it all together to make about half a picture.

      Sylvia would like have talked to someone and had to introduce herself. That person likely would have pointed her out to a friend so in a few days all the regulars would know who Deputy Porter was. Sarah like calls her Sylvia so if someone overheard them she could be Deputy Sylvia Porter. Or maybe its something more sinister lol

      You are right though Monk will most likely show again for sure when he is questioned.

  2. jack says:

    Nice chapter,, things to be getting a little smoother between Simpson and Sylvia of maybe being in the hot seat has mellowed his attitude.Thanks

  3. KO says:

    Nice stories, the last two. Thing are shaping up nicely for some future interactions and shenaigans me thinks!
    Thanks again for of ALL of your stories and keeping me entertained and engaged!
    Keep up the great work Cindy!!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s