CHAPTER 20

.....Monday.
.....8:00 am.

.....The town began to wake. Dogs barked, morning papers flew. Sprinklers sprang to life.
.....In the kitchens, eggs landed sunnyside up in cast iron skillets handed down through the generations and began to sizzle in the bacon grease. The bacon chilled on folded sheets of Brawny paper towels, grease leeching out. The odors wafted out through open windows to help create the smell of morning in Harding, Wyoming.
.....That, and the funk of cow manure wafting in on the breeze from the pastures outside of town.
.....In front of the Ziegler house, eight rolls worth of toilet paper hung from the trees. The billowing addition to the otherwise well-manicured lawn added an anarchic festiveness to the milieu, the soggy ends of the tissue adding ballast in the breeze.
.....The sprinklers had clicked on earlier in the morning, quickly reducing the lower aspect of the display to a mush that had broke free to lie clumped in the grass.
.....Steve Ziegler was about to get very upset with his son, demanding to know what the boy had done to encourage the vandalism.
.....Television, video game and internet privileges would be revoked for a week.

.....Her back to the open window, Tanya’s bare skin took on a preternatural glow in the morning sun, as Wolfe propped himself up on an elbow to watch her slowly dress.
.....It wasn’t often that she took the time to dress that slowly.
.....Wolfe appreciated the effort. “For an old chick, you are in damned fine shape.”
.....She stepped into a tight pair of Guess? jeans, slid the denim up her legs and zipped them up. They fit perfect, no muffin-effect of overlapping flesh there. She posed for him, hand on cocked hip.
.....“Believe it or else, I still fit in my cheerleader outfit.”
.....He fell back to the pillow, hands behind his neck. He winced: livid claw marks ran down his back and the crumpled sheets weren’t as welcoming as they had been the night before.
.....He shifted uncomfortably as he leered up at her. “That I’d have to see...”
.....She circled to the bed and drew a hand across his chest, slid her other hand under his head. She leaned in to kiss him. Hungrily. Her left hand continued south, and her lips followed.
.....Eyes closed, he inhaled sharply.

.....Along the avenue outside the cottage, birds paused in their morning serenade as a sub-bass rumble began to build. Spreading an advance wave of unease as it approached the neighborhood, the Humvee rolled in and eased by Wolfe’s car, then moved on slowly.
.....Very slowly.
.....The driver had one very nasty hangover.

.....Tanya pulled the sheet aside and threw her leg over him, straddled him, eased down.
.....Sighed. Languidly at first, she began to ride.
.....His tenderized back forgotten, Wolfe slid his hands up the back of her thighs, cupped her ass. She paused, then reached back and took his wrists, pinned them above his head. Resumed her rhythm. Eyes back, eyes closed, she chuckled.
.....The rhythm became more urgent, her breath ragged...
.....Eyes closed, Wolfe inhaled deeply as he neared orgasm.
........ she moaned...
........ and with a sweep of hair fell forward and bit him on the shoulder...
........ HARD.
.....Skin broke.
.....His eyes shot open. Wide.
.....“Ahhhhhhh!”

.....At his cry, an old woman froze by her white picket fence, her eyes wide as she half turned to Tanya’s open bedroom window, roses momentarily forgotten. Her bony knuckles whitened across her grip on the pruning shears, the blades opened and erect in defensive mode.

.....Her jaws locked tight to his flesh, Wolfe bucked as Tanya pounded her hips against him in a race to match his climax. A whimper welled from deep in her throat and built, and she threw back her head and released a keening moan...

.....A succession of expressions fleeted across the old woman’s face:
........ fear...
........ recognition...
........ nostalgia...
........ and taking in the strange car parked out front... a vindictive smile.
.....SNIP.
.....She returned to her roses... but hurriedly.
.....SNIP.
.....Gossip awaited...
.....SNIP!

.....Gasping to reclaim her breath, Tanya pushed herself upright with a hand splayed against Wolfe’s sweaty chest. Her green eyes burned as she regarded him from beneath hooded lids, blonde hair tinged dark with sweat and hanging damply.
....Wolfe’s eyes moved to the livid slash of blood across her lips, and noting his gaze she wiped it away with the back of her hand like errant lipstick.
.....A bead of sweat hung from the tip of her nose. It broke free as she pulled back the tangle of her dank hair, falling to mingle with the patina of sweat on his chest. He looked up at her with the expression of one that had awoke from one dream to find themselves in another, even better dream.
.....She met his gaze, an uncertain smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
.....“What are you doing this morning?” she murmured.
.....He blinked, choosing his words thoughtfully. “Recovering?”
.....There was a moist smack of uncoupling as she rolled off of him, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “Walk me to the restaurant.”
.....He made a show of his decrepitude, easing up to sit. He half-turned towards her to display his war-torn flesh. “If I can,” he sighed painfully, eyes gone all puppy dog.
.....She touched one of the gouges lightly and he winced.
.....“Whoops,” she giggled.

.....The dispatch room reeked of stale cigarette smoke and cheap perfume, with an undertone of bad sweat.
.....With a Starbucks Grande Double Latte gripped in his shaking hand, Crawford leaned over Julia as she typed away. He fought to keep from tasting for a second time the Jack Daniels he had abused the previous night. The room probably smelled like that all the time, he reckoned, but today was the first time he had considered how nasty it must seem to someone coming in from the fresh air.
.....He’d have supply put in an order for some industrial strength air freshener when he finally retreated to his office.
.....He eyed the data scrolling up on the screen, presenting the image of someone who knew what he was looking at, even if he didn’t. His slowly ebbing hangover didn’t help his concentration. His mouth tasted like he’d spent the night licking clean the floor of the Animal Shelter. The coffee didn’t taste much better, but the caffeine was clearing his head. Slowly.
.....He gave up trying to make any sense of what was on the screen. “Anything yet?”
.....“Typical day-to-day shit,” Julia replied, tapping the ash from her Virginia Slim menthol into the trash can. “Some late payments on his credit cards.”
.....Crawford considered the trash can loaded with discarded paperwork that was lightly dusted with cigarette ash. So much for the promised paper-free work environment the advent of the digital age had promised. He had mentioned the hazard before to her and apparently he needed to mention it again, but priorities were in line.
.....She looked up at him, taking another drag off of her smoke.
.....“He’s got an overdue video at Blockbuster.”
.....“How late?” he asked.
.....She exhaled the smoke and chuckled in grudging admiration.
.....“Thirty-two bucks worth of overdue.”
.....Crawford let out a low whistle. “He coulda bought the damn’ thing for that much...what the hell is it?”
.....“Bring It On.”
.....Crawford considered the title, trying to place it. He had never heard of it. “What’s that, a war movie?”
.....“It’s sort of like a comedy,” Julia replied, shaking her head. “I guess you’d call it a chick flick for teenyboppers. With Kirsten Dunst as a cheerleader.”
.....She shook her head at the memory of having endured part of it on late night TV. “It was lame, even as those things go.”
.....Crawford grunted and leaned back to the screen, trying to decipher the runes. “If need be, I want you to go as far back as grade school, dig through his Permanent Record...”
.....She straightened. “Huh...”
.....“What?”
.....“Looks like he defaulted on a loan in...”
.....“Fuck that, we’re not a collection agency.”
.....He massaged the bridge of his nose as Julia continued to tap away on the keys. It sounded like she was using her fists. Finally, blessed relief arrived as she paused and wheeled back from the desk.
.....“Here’s something... some petty-assed shit, but at least it’s something.”
.....“Hit me.”
.....Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t tempt me.”
.....Crawford took the comeback for a joke, but didn’t catch the edge of rancor left over from the night before. The least the man could have done was drop by my table just to say hello. Even if it was only coworker to coworker.
.....She leaned back in and tapped at the keyboard some more, then paused:
.....“How ’bout a Failure to Appear on a bench warrant in Yuba City, California. 1987.” She shrugged. “Unpaid parking tickets.” They’re not looking for him anymore, but...”
.....“He doesn’t know that.” Crawford frowned. Something about the man rubbed Roy the wrong way. Aside from him fucking Tanya. He sighed. “I guess...”
.....Julia paused in her typing and perked up. “Oh my.”
.....“What?”
.....“My, my, my...” she clucked.
.....“Jules...”
.....She held up a hand to silence him and hit a button on the keyboard. “It appears that our Mr. Wolfe didn’t leave the California School System on his own volition.”
.....He blinked at the last word. “His what?”
.....“They canned him.” She turned the monitor to Roy.
.....“Huh.” The information was in English finally, and he poured over the data. “They fired him for that?”
.....He had forgotten about his hangover.
.....“She was sixteen.” Julia eyed him sternly.
.....He looked at the .jpg supplied with the report. “Yeah, but she’s got the body of...”
.....Julia slugged him in the arm. Hard.
.....“Ow. Assaulting an officer of the law.” He rubbed his arm. “I’ll have you on bread and water.”
.....“At these wages, that’d be a promotion.”
.....He stepped around the dispatch desk and approached the wall occupied by the Sony industrial model plasma screen monitor.
.....From the image displayed on the monitor, not one whole hell of a lot was happening on the main drag of Harding at that moment. It may as well have been an sixty thousand dollar picture frame for all the movement it displayed. But by God, what detail. He could virtually read the license plate numbers from the cars left overnight in front of The Larkspur.
.....They were left overnight not out of fear of getting a deuce, he mused, just the left-behinds of folks pairing off at closing time. Even being as big of a motorhead that Crawford was, he couldn’t figure out the kind of folks that would drive less than eight blocks to hang out at a bar. Half the time, they’d have to walk back in the morning to collect the car, anyway.
.....Then they would come up to him in his off-time, acting chummy in an attempt to try and have him fix the resulting parking ticket. Or tickets. Some of them were damned lazy about walking to collect their vehicles.
.....Assholes.
.....He moved closer to the screen. Hell, he could damn near read the expiration dates on the tags.
.....He thought about cars left behind and the why and had a pretty good idea where Wolfe was at the moment. Legs apart and arms clasped behind his back in parade rest, he turned his profile to Julia:
.....“Bring up The Teapot. Interior Cam.”
.....With a casual tapping of the keyboard, Julia brought up the interior of the restaurant on the plasma screen. From a slight overhead angle, the camera eyed Tanya as she turned from the bar to the register. From the detail of the monitor, Crawford could tell by the tag on the curve of her buttocks that Tanya was wearing her faded Guess? jeans.
.....Wolfe was sitting at the bar.
.....Julia chuckled through a cloud of cigarette smoke. “Hey... he’s checking out her ass.”
.....“So he is,” Crawford agreed. “Damned pervert. You’d think she was a little too old for him.”

.....Tanya finished setting up the bank and turned from the register.
.....“What are you up to?”
.....“A Bloody Mary?” Wolfe offered hopefully.
.....“It’s too early,” Tanya countered with a smile. “Go get something to eat first.”
.....He eyed the kitchen. She caught the look and shook her head.
.....“I’m not cooking you breakfast, too...” she chided. “Maybe tomorrow.”
.....Casually.
.....“Sounds like a plan.” He could play that game.
.....“Scoot.”
.....Wolfe scooted.