Chapter 4: Breaking the Law

A few hours later it was Saturday morning. There were emergency vehicles all along the road from the Finklestein’s house to mine. Since it was still several hours until sunrise, there were no lights or bullhorns or anything like that. Joel Carson was broken in so many ways it took the paramedics half an hour to get him into a body bag. “Dead in a ditch,” Sergeant Roy Cooper told me, “just like a Carson.”

I shook my head. “Why my house?” I asked, even though I knew.

“Probably just crawled as far as he could. They found his brother Stevie in the woods. He was in pretty much the same shape as Joel, but he was hanging on a tree limb twenty feet in the air. Dripped blood on Officer Houlihan. That’s how they found him.”

“In a tree?”

“Well these townies get into shit like this from time to time. Probably high on God knows what. Normally not in a nice neighborhood like this.”

As I talked with the Sargent I kept one eye on the Finklestein’s house. The living room light was on, and a police officer was approaching the porch. Even in the night, I could tell it was Alika Kirkwood. She was the only black person in the precinct, the only woman in the precinct, the only homosexual in the precinct, and the owner of the most extreme set of curves in the tri-county area.

“I could watch her walk all day,” I mused.

“Tell me about it, Roy said. “It’s a good thing her tits are so big, otherwise she’d fall over backward every time she stood up. Too bad she’s a dyke.”

Officer Kirkwood stopped at the front door and turned toward us as if she’s heard everything we said. Being a woman with beautiful rounded facial features and bountiful rounded curves in a stationhouse full of men, she’d probably heard it before. “What’s going on at the Henderson’s old place?” I asked.

“Well it’s halfway between where we found Joel and where we found Stevie. And someone said that they saw Gary Ross go in there a couple of nights ago before he went missing. Maybe nothing, but since Lisa’s shacked up in there it seems a little suspicious.”

I pretended that I was surprised. “Lisa Hatcher?”

“Yup. New owner is a professor of women’s studies at the University. Whatever the hell that is. And I hear ... she’s got a daughter too.” The Sargent grunted a little bit when he said ‘daughter’.

“Yeah,” I said. “A little fat one with glasses. What about her?”

“Ah nothing. My boy Jimmy came home with his eyes swollen shut. Said that little Finklestein girl did it.”

I felt a cold sensation in my stomach. Jimmy Cooper was the best defensive tackle in the state. He could bench press four hundred pounds without breaking a sweat and was going to play at Notre Dame in the fall. “No kidding?” I said, trying to sound natural.

“Obviously bullshit. The kid’s probably on grass,” Roy grumbled as he got into his car and closed the door. “And Rick, I have to tell you not to leave town. We know you’re a good egg, but until we get this sorted out ... Well, you know how it is.”

I nodded and waved. The only good thing about all the dead bodies that Rachel Finklestein was leaving behind is that no one was alive to squeal on me. Then my curiosity got the better of me. With Roy gone, I was all alone on the street, so I snuck up to the Finklestein’s house and peaked through the front window.

Rachel was on the couch, sitting upright but with a seductive posture, cleavage pouring out of her satin robe. Lisa was curled up against her, her eyes closed, stroking the older woman’s thighs. For some reason, Officer Kirkwood’s hat was off, and the top button of her shirt was unbuttoned. I swear that I could see hardened nipples poking out of her blouse.

“That’s really all I can tell you, Officer Kirkwood,” Dr. Rachel Finklestein said, her voice dripping honey. “He was drunk when he left, so I imagine that you’ll find him wrapped around a tree in some ditch around here.”

“Guys like Gary Ross don’t disappear,” Alika said. “They crash and burn. I’ve known more than a few guys like that.” She spat the last sentence, probably in memory of some piece of crap boyfriend from her past.

“He did seem to have quite a temper,” Rachel said. “But I already told you that part.”

“The bruise on your hand?”

“Yes,” the doctor said, holding out her right hand, where I light but noticeable bruise wrapped around the back of her hand.

The policewoman leaned in to examine the bruise. The other women examined her bust as it strained against the light blue police blouse. “It kind of looks like a chain to me,” she said. “Like your hand got caught in a pulley. But you say you got this when you hit Gary Ross.”

“Slapped him,” Dr. Finklestein said. Lisa giggled.

Alika fixed her bright green eyes on the former beauty queen, who was resplendent in translucent negligee, her fingers and toes painted vibrant pink. “Do you think this is funny, Lisa?” she asked firmly.

“It made her happy to see Gary humiliated,” Rachel said. “It should make every woman happy to see any man humiliated. Don’t you agree Officer Kirkwood?”

“She beat the crap out of him,” Lisa squealed. “It was a great fight.”

The buxom policewoman smiled just for a second, and Rachel’s eyes lit up. “Gary Ross used to get into lots of fights with women. Normally they were pretty one sided. I had to examine those women’s’ bodies for bruises. It was alwful. I hadn’t seen a woman’s body look like that.”

“This fight was one-sided, too,” Rachel smirked, standing up and stroking Lisa’s golden locks.

A quick rustle of the satin robe made it clear that the brunette temptress wasn’t wearing underwear. I could see Alika Kirkwood’s lips twitch, and her nipples were visibly pressing against her blouse, creating new folds in the fabric as they hardened. And Dr. Finklestein could see it too. She smiled a vicious ugly smile. “Tell me Officer Kirkwood,” she said, untying the belt on the robe, “have you ever seen a woman’s body that looks like this.”

This is the fourth time that I had seen Rachel Finklestein present her incredible body to disbelieving observers, seemingly bigger and more developed each time, but this was the first time that I had seen her naked. As the robe dropped to the floor she adopted a bikini pose, with one leg cocked against the other and her hands on her hips. Her tan was perfectly uniform, painting every sculpted inch of her muscular perfection golden brown. Her pubic hair was short and manicured, at least until Lisa jumped on it, burying her face in the older woman’s sex and squeezing her round, toned buttocks. “Lisa please,” Dr. Finklestein said. “I’m talking to Officer Kirkwood.”