Chapter 1

There is a small town in Ohio named X. It started life as a cross roads where the farmers met at the trading post to buy, sell, and barter. As things like that often happen the trading post gave way to a more respectable general store. The store was joined by a drink house first, then by a stable. It was more for the buying and selling of farm animals than sheltering strange horses. The town continued to grow until the depression. It, like a lot of farm towns, survived, but went into a replacement mode. It never really grew much after.

Its one claim to fame was an early statue. The statue was dedicated to a famous civil war era union general. Tourist came along once in a long while just to see it. There just weren't enough civil war buffs to fill the three bedroom Bed and Breakfast. Most of the buildings in town dated back to the 1930's and 40's. Fortunately the population swelled on the weekends. It was enough to keep the town alive, but not enough to attract the fast food joints. The consequence was that the town remained quaint, as it would later be described. There were a 'bushel' of stories in the town. Some of them fascinating, some of them mundane. Welcome to life in Small Town X.

Eddie's Place.

If anything on the raw side of life happened, it always began in Eddie's place. Eddie's was the only beer joint in town. Small Town X was just too small for a real bar. At Eddie's, the jukebox played country music. The farmer's sons and daughters, danced beside the towns working class. There was not a real cowboy for a thousand miles but that didn't bother a soul.

Eddie wasn't the owner's name but nobody ever called her anything else. It was because nobody knew her real name, she kept it a secret. The sign read Eddie's because it had read Eddie's before the present owner collected her debt from the previous owner. Word was that the previous owner had owed the present Eddie's former girlfriend a wad of dough. Eddie had just collected the debt for her. How she wound up with the place was anyone's guess.

Even though Eddie was a woman on the spring side of middle-age, she was still hard enough to keep the crowd in line. The rumor that she had killed an abusive husband helped keep the rowdies in line. Not to mention the cut down baseball bat and the sawed off shotgun which everyone knew was under the bar.

Eddie also had an eye for the ladies. A proclivity she acquired while doing her time. With Eddie, what began as a prison necessity became a life style.

Eddie looked up at the large man who entered. The man was in the full bloom of middle-age. Since Eddie knew everyone in town, the stranger had to be from somewhere else.

"Howdy stranger," she said with a grin. "I always wanted to say that. We don't get many strangers here."

"Well Miss Kitty, you just feel free. Course I do have a name you know."

"Tell me what you want to drink, while I don't listen to it." She grinned to show she was not upset.

"Draft and I will keep it to myself then." The older man smiled.

His smile bothered Eddie. She wasn't sure why but he seemed to smile like a man who knew more than she knew.

"Well now," Eddie said as she placed the wet glass on the black bar top. "I am curious about you, just not your name especially.

"Well I am a writer. No, not published just a hobby with me." He responded to her curious look. "People always ask what I have written. They really want to know what I have publish, and am I a real write."

"Well are you?" Eddie asked with a grin.

"By my definition yes, however I am not a professional since I have never been paid for it."

"In that case let's use your definition. So what brings you to Small Town X?"

"I came to write a novel about your big murder case."

"What big murder case?" Eddie asked.

"Why Maggie Evans, how many unsolved cases do you have?"

"Who the hell is Maggie Evans? I never heard of her."

"She was a stranger like me. Just a woman passing through a while ago. They pulled her body out of the Small Town X reservoir."

"Oh now I remember, the lady in the yellow convertible. Since she was a stranger, I never paid any attention."

"So I guess you don't know anything about her."

"Nothing more than you just told me. Excuse me I got to get back to work."

He watched as she moved on down the bar to refill a draft glass. He wondered if she indeed knew nothing. It was the old cop in him. In his mind everyone was a suspect,.

He looked around the dimly lit room. Without a doubt someone in the room knew something. Murder and unsavory characters went together. All the unsavory characters in Small Town X seemed to be gathered at Eddie's. He knew that it was not true at all. Still so many in such a small town, They must bus them in, he thought.

The writer watched as Eddie went from patron to patron. She was no doubt filling them in. It was exactly what he had hoped to accomplish by the visit. The writer put three bucks on the bar then walked out the door.

He was almost to the van when a voice shouted. "Hey Writer."

"Are you really a writer?" The voice belonged to a woman of about thirty. She had a slightly elongated face and a slightly thick jaw. She wore her hair much too long for her age and face shape. She did have an attractive body even though it was a bit thick at the hips.

"Like I told Eddie, I am an unpublished writer. That makes me a bit like a starving artist. To answer your question I do write yes."

"Then I need to talk to you."

"Is it about Maggie Evans?" he asked.

"No it is about me. I think I have some great stories to tell. I think I could get them published."

"Well..." He intentionally left it so that she would be forced to answer.

"Sammie, my friends call me Sammie," She said it extending her hand to the writer.

"Well Sammie, everyone has stories to tell. I don't ghost-write, I am sorry to say."

"Let's go to my place and we can talk about it." Sammie was offering something the writer just wasn't sure what.

"I am tired tonight but I am staying at the state park just outside of town. If you want to talk come on out one day and we can discuss your life. I have to warn you though I do not expect to change my mind."

"Well honey, if anybody can change your mind it is me." She grinned what had to be nothing less than a hungry wolf's grin.

She watched the writer drive away in the mini van with blacked out windows. Sammie went back into the dim light of Eddie's. She knew that she was almost gorgeous in the darkened beer joint. She also knew that before the night was over some drunken drugstore cowboy would hit on her. It always happened. She seldom said no to them. She seemed to be horny all the time since she moved to Small Town X the year before. She credited her traveling salesman husband and the freedom he afforded her for her new found sexuality.

She found her seat at the bar. At first she had hated the custom of women displaying themselves at the bar. She didn't like Eddie flirting with her either. Well in all honesty she had been flattered at first. She sort of felt that one night when she couldn't find a cowboy, she would give Eddie a try. Some of the women had talked about how great Eddie was with her tongue. It might be nice to find out even if there were cowboys around. Most of them just knew one trick. She wasn't complaining though. She had finally learned to orgasm from intercourse.

"Hey Sammie, you wanna dance?" The man who asked was a tall thin man somewhat less than her age. At Eddie's age didn't seem to matter. Men seemed to be attracted by a woman's looks or personality more than her age. At least it seemed that way to Sammie, who had slept with older and younger men.

"Sure why not Martin." Martin held her close during the dance. It took about thirty seconds for him to get an erection. The feel of his penis laying against her belly was all it took. Sammie melted into him. She hoped desperately that he would ask to take her home.

"Sammie, how about me and you take a walk? We can get a couple of beers to go, drive out by the late. Would you like that?"

"Oh yes Martin," Sammie replied. "But could I have another drink first?"

"Sure, I wouldn't mind having one myself and then maybe another dance."

"That would be nice," Sammie agreed.

Very few things were overlooked by Eddie. She saw Martin and Sammie hookup. She also cursed her luck. She felt that she was on the verge of seducing Sammie. Oh well, so she liked the challenge of virgins mostly. There were plenty of women around, who fondly remembered their time with Eddie. Some were in the club at that moment. Some preferred men but some preferred Eddie. Even the ones who preferred men got to looking hard at her when closing time approached. Eddie always had her choice at 1 a.m.

Eddie was working on half a dozen women who had never had a lesbian experience before. She had turned on twice that many already. The town's women were rapidly becoming bi. Eddie was right proud of herself for it. She wanted to set some kind of record. She smiled as she watched Sammie's ass wiggle against Martin's erection.

When the song ended the two of them moved to a table far from anyone else. Eddie knew, from having talked to Sammie, that Sammie would have Martin's penis in her hands any second. Sammie was just as much a slut as any of the other women in Small Town X.

The thoughts that triggered in her mind were anything but ladylike. Eddie was getting tense as she always did when she felt she had lost a woman. It didn't much matter that she had never had Sammie, she knew Sammie was close to coming over.

Sammie turned her beer glass up and took a long drink. When she finished, she smiled at Martin, then she led him out the door.

As they passed, Eddie smiled on the outside but inside she was furious. She just wasn't sure who she should be furious with. Martin was just acting like and man. If Sammie hadn't been such and easy slut, she wouldn't be Sammie, Eddie thought with a smile.

"Hey Eddie, what's a girl gotta' do to get a drink around here?" the twenty pound overweight redhead asked.

Eddie moved slowly down the bar to the redhead. She didn't want Rusty to get any ideas. Rusty was a sweetheart all right, but she was just a little too possessive. It took Eddie a couple of days to extract herself every time she played with Rusty. The woman was just too damn clingy. Sure, she had her childhood issues, but so did everyone else.

Just as Eddie reached for Rusty's glass, a siren began to intrude on the country music. The siren blast grew in intensity then faded away. Since it didn't stop in her parking lot, Eddie ignored it.

The Ambulance roared past Eddie's without the drive, or attendant noticing the beer joint. The driver was intent on the narrow road. The roads in Small Town X definitely could use an upgrade. All the county emergency personnel cursed the roads in Small Town X, but still were forced to provide service to the burg.

Nobody gave all that a thought at the moment. Just a few blocks from Eddie's joint, a subject was barricaded inside a house. The sheriff's deputies had the house surrounded. The ambulance personnel had no idea what else was going on.

The state police's swat team was on the way in addition to the ambulance. The damn woman in the house had her husband's deer rifle. She was threatening to kill herself, as well as anyone who approached the house. It was a first for the sheriff's deputies. At least no one could remember ever having a woman threaten such a thing.

The ambulance was almost run off the road by the state police swat team bus.

"Oh hell Lucy, we are in for some shit now." The voice belonged to Jonathan Simpson. He was the driver of the ambulance. Lucy was the paramedic. Jonathan also was an Emt but with a lower level of training. That small fact made Lucy the team leader even though she was newer to the field.

"How so?" she asked.

"Those state police swat guys always shoot somebody. They are the most blood thirsty bunch I have ever seen. It is a fucking macho thing."

"Well I hope they hold off this time. I hate fucking gunshot wounds."

"Honey, if they start shooting, the only thing we will do is transport the body." Jonathan could call her honey since he was at least thirty years older.

"That bad huh?" Lucy asked.

"Yep, it will be a miracle if she comes out of this alive."

The two medics stood behind the ambulance drinking coke from the cooler they carried. They watched as the cops talked to the distraught woman on the phone.

"Hey lady," One of the deputies said to Lucy. "I need your help."

"Okay, is somebody hurt." Lucy couldn't think of any other reason they would want her.

"Not yet, I need you to talk to the lady in the house. She just told us she wouldn't speak to us again. Said that we were all men and couldn't understand."

"Well, I haven't been trained for this kind of thing. What if I say something wrong?"

"If you don't do something, I am going to have to let the swat team take the building. If I do that somebody is probably going to die."

Lucy reluctantly accepted the cell phone he thrust at her. "Her name is Joyce."

"Hello, my name is Lucy. I am a paramedic. I want to help you, Joyce."

"Oh Lucy, I need help. They are going to kill me."

"Not if you put down the rifle and walk out. If you do that I will personally see to it that you get whatever help you need."

"Even if I put down the rifle and walk out they are going to kill me. They can't let me live. I know too much."

"What do you know honey?" Lucy asked.

"If I tell you what I know, you will be in great danger too."

Lucy looked at the deputy who made a circular motion with his finger against his head. He indicated that she was crazy.

"I want to help you but I can't unless you tell me what is going on." Lucy covered the phone. "What can I do? Can I go in there?"

"Absolutely not," the deputy said.

Lucy ignored him. "How about if I come in and we talk?" The deputy shook his head.

"No Lucy, if you do that they will find a way to kill us both. They don't want me to tell what I know."

"Who doesn't want you to tell? Most of us out here Joyce don't know you honey." Lucy continued.

"Where do you live Lucy?" Joyce asked.

"Taylortown," was her only reply.

"Good, then don't pry into this honey. It is best that you don't know."

"Joyce how about this? I come up there and you come out with me. I will carry you to the state hospital in Raleigh. I will take you there myself. Nobody will be able to get you there." Lucy figured the doctors there could deal with her delusional paranoia.

"Joyce, you know this has to end soon." Lucy hoped it was the right thing to say.

"Okay, you come up here alone and I will go out to the ambulance with you."

Lucy was terrified as she walked to the door of the small frame house. Joyce turned out to be far from a gun toting red neck. She looked more like a church lady. Still, she came to the door with the rifle.

She was looking all around as Lucy said, "You have to leave that rifle in the house honey."

At that very moment a shot rang out from behind her. Joyce crumpled back into the house. Lucy rushed in to help the fallen woman. As she did the state and local cops surrounded her. Lucy looked up at them with anger and hurt in her eyes. She intended to slap hell out of the first one who started any macho shit.

Even on the summer night, it was well, past dead dark when the writer arrived back at the campground. He had checked into the state park just until he had his research completed. After that he would have to decide where to go. He could stay in Small Town X to write the story since he was pretty much free to come and go as he wished.

Still, he might go home to write it. The white frame house stood almost empty at the moment. It would be that way until he returned. His country club wife would be, God only knew, where.

In his week of reading files and talking to cops, he had learned little. All anyone knew was that Maggie's body had been pulled from the lake used for the town's drinking water. Since Maggie was not a local, nobody knew much and cared even less.

The writer had read the police reports, such as they were. From them he had learned that Maggie was from a couple of hundred miles away. She had been on her way to a sales call when she disappeared. Maggie sold computers as well as software systems.

"Hello in there," the woman's voice interrupted him. The voice belonged to the park ranger. She was the ranger who made the night patrol of the campgrounds. The writer had seen her around but had never spoken to her.

"Hello," he said after leaving the van. He had been sitting in the passenger seat reviewing his notes when she spoke. "What can I do for you Ma'am."

"Gee don't call me ma'am it makes me sound so old." She smiled, giving him a chance to respond.

"Didn't mean it that way. It is the southern raising, I expect. Besides I am at least twenty years older than you."

"Oh I doubt that. The reason I am here is because you have to move tomorrow. You are only allowed to camp for a week here. It is the rule."

"Damn, If I had known that, I would have found some private park."

She saw the look of dismay on his face. He was a good looking old man with the silver hair and beard. The number of wrinkles put his age in the forty range. He must be one of those guys with premature grey hair she thought.

"Tell you what writer," She began. "Come to the office tomorrow and check out, then back in again in another space. It is legal. We got a couple of people who do it." He looked as though he really did appreciate the information. Jane thought, it might be nice to have the writer owe her a favor. She did like his looks, a lot actually.

"Thank you for the advice. I will definitely take it."

"Good, I kinda' like having you around." She smiled her most seductive smile.

That smile made the writer shiver, but it wasn't in fear, even though it was the smile a cat wore as it toyed with a mouse. It was more a shiver of fascination. The fascination of looking into the face of evil while waiting to see what will happen.

Ranger Jane, as he began to think of her, moved to stand close in the black night. She wasn't so close that a camper might think anything of it. She was just close enough to speak without fear of being overheard in the camper no more than a few feet away.

"Why don't you take a walk tonight writer? Walk on down to the office. I think something interesting might happen."

She had him on the spot and he knew it. He didn't know exactly what to say but he knew he had to say or do something. If for no other reason than he was a gentleman. She hadn't exactly promised him anything. Maybe she knew something about Maggie Evans. He knew better, but he fooled himself with the lie.

"Sure, when would be the best time for that walk?"

"I would think about midnight." The writer just nodded.

The writer stood outside the locked office waiting for Ranger Jane to arrive. The black Ford Bronco arrived five minutes after midnight. The truck pulled up beside him. The passenger side window lowered as if by magic.

"Get in writer," It wasn't quite the demand it sounded. It was more and invitation.

He didn't speak until he was in the truck. "So Ranger are you kidnaping me?" The writer was almost laughing.

"I thought for a while I might have to," the woman in the green outfit replied.

He didn't know what to say so he changed the subject. "Where are you taking me, not that I mind?"

"We rent cabins as well as camp spaces. We have an empty one away from all the others. The office workers rent it last. I checked, no one is using it, so I thought we might sit on the porch and talk a little."

"That sounds like a perfectly reasonable thing for us to do." The writer did not mean for to come off nasty by any means. He meant it to sound like a non committal remark.

The cabin didn't seem just right to him when he arrived. It wasn't logs as it should have been. It was called board and batten construction. Just a bunch of vertical boards with a second board nailed over the joint cracks.

The cabins were rustic at best. They had no electric power. They did have running water. A propane gas cylinder could be purchased from the office to supply enough power for the hot water and even the small heater, if need be. The gas would last only a day or so if used for heat. If it was used only to heat water, it would last a week or more. Light was provided by kerosene lamps. The feeling was a mixture of wilderness and comfort. The comfort from the indoor bathrooms and running water. Rustic because of the lack of any other modern conveniences.

Jane turned to him. The writer could feel Ranger Janes's hand under his shirt, her tongue down his throat, and the large buckle of her gun belt pressed into his crotch. It was an interesting set of feelings to be having all at once. Everything was a turn on except the pistol belt thing. Even it wasn't enough to calm him down. He had her blouse out and was reaching for the buttons when a serious knock sounded from the front door.

"Busted," he said.

"Ah but by whom?" She asked, as she quickly stuffed her shirt inside the uniform trousers.

Ranger Jane moved to the door but much slower than the writer would have. She seemed to have at least a sense of whom the person standing in the night would be. The writer couldn't see the intruder since Jane kept the door mostly closed. He could hear their voices though.

"Hello, am I interrupting?" the voice on the porch asked.

"Of course you are. You know I don't come inside unless I am with someone," Jane replied.

"I just needed to talk with you but I will come back later. Can I meet you at your place?" The voice was definitely female. She sounded young to the writer but then what can you really tell from a voice on the other side of a wall.

"All right, come to my place in a couple of hours." Jane seemed to be less annoyed all of a sudden.

"Thanks," The voice replied. Jane closed the door as she removed the pistol belt.

"Now where were we, writer?" she asked with a grin.

STX Lake was a popular spot for lovers in the small lonesome town. There wasn't much to do after dark except sit at home watching TV with the family, hanging out at Eddie's, or screwing by the lake. For some, most nights consisted of doing all three in that order. The finding of Maggie Evan's body and possible murder there, hadn't stopped the routine.

Martin took a hand off the steering wheel, then pressed Sammie's hand harder against him.

"Feels good baby," he murmured, reaching over and giving Sammie's breast a squeeze. Sammie winced in slight pain but also moaned with genuine pleasure.

"Hey honey, we keep this up and you're gonna run the truck into a tree," she said with a sensual laugh.

"Always like to give my ladies a good bang for the buck," he joked in response.

"I'm sure you do," Sammie told him, teasing him harder with her hand; "Feels like you're packing a nice wad of 'cash' in there."

"Never had no complaints," he said, smiling oddly to himself with the satisfying realization that it actually was the truth.

The occasional flickering of headlights and random ignition of car engines created the nightly ambiance of STX Lake. Martin found his favorite spot by the lake, then stopped the pick-up. It was an unspoken understanding. Everyone knew it was Martin's spot. They all had one, and rarely did an interloper dare to enter another lover's territory. Most knew better than to do so. In STX, invading another man's lakeside territory was grounds for having one of Eddie's beer mugs ground into your face. Eddie was more than happy to hand over another cold mug to complete the job. Eddie had her own territory at STX Lake, actually she had several...

Sammie climbed out of the pick-up, then took Martin's hand. He pulled her hastily toward the large oak tree by the water's edge. He didn't even give her a chance to speak before pushing her back against the rough bark. He enveloped her lips with his mouth. Martin's callused hands explored her body frantically, as his tongue pushed deeper into her mouth. Her moans of pleasure were arousing him even further. He took her by the wrists and moved her hands down to his jeans to encourage her to unzip them.

She needed no such encouragement. Sammie adeptly unzipped Martin's jeans, then wrestled them down just far enough to find his considerable size. She moaned her approval.

Martin's mind was fading into blind ecstasy as he felt her stroking him. He wasn't even aware he was ripping the flimsy cotton T-shirt down the front. It was in uncontrollable lust to feel her naked body.

He pushed her to the ground knelt over her, quickly unzipped her blue jeans, then forced them down past her hips. Martin held her wrists penned to the ground. He then moved his knees between her legs to spread them apart. His fierce entry into her felt excruciating, but also wonderful to Sammie. However, as she looked up into his face, she wasn't sure that she liked what she saw. He was staring at her intensely. He wore a wicked grin on his face. He seemed to be enjoying the pain his forceful thrusting caused her.

"Hey lover, take it easy," she managed to gasp between staggered breaths; "I ain't going anywhere."

"You love it," Martin panted, thrusting harder. "You love being a little slut. Come on baby say it."

"I love being a slut," Sammie responded automatically in a slow breathy moan. She was so close to orgasm, she didn't care what she had to do or say to feel it.

Hearing Sammie's words was all it took for Martin. He jerked back and then forward in one violent move and released inside her. He fell on top of her in exhaustion.

Sammie was still squirming in sexual arousal. In less than 30 seconds Martin was climbing to his feet and rearranging his clothes. She laid there for a moment, trying to clear her mind and understand that it was over for her without satisfaction. She was pissed.

Martin looked down at Sammie's disheveled, half-dressed body and smiled with macho arrogance and almost a hint of cruelty.

"Come on, baby," he said, reaching down his hand to her; "I'll take you home."

Sammie slapped his hand away and stood up on her own. She tried to pull the ripped T-shirt together and tuck it in her jeans to secure it.

"You're a real bastard," she told him.

Martin laughed, "Yeah, but you love it." He took her hand and bent to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"You were wonderful Sammie; best I've had," he lied sweetly, trying to appease her.

Martin led her to the car then got in behind the wheel. He handed her a can of warm beer from under the driver's seat. Sammie begrudgingly took it.

"How about I take you for an early breakfast?" Martin suggested it as he drove away from the lake and onto Route 60. "Know a great little place about 20 miles from here. Open all night - best scrambled eggs and coffee within 100 miles." He looked over at Sammie, tweaking her cheek with a hopeful smile.

Sammie turned to him and reluctantly but helplessly began to smile back.

"Sure, why not?" she answered with a casual shrug. It was the very least he owed her, and Sammie was, by god gonna', collect something from him before going home. Even if it was only breakfast in a greasy highway diner.

"Cutting it close ain't you Martin?" It was his brother who asked. What the hell was Tommy doing down here? he wondered.

"Well, a little I guess. Where is Harvey?"

"I sent him on home when I got here a few minutes ago. I didn't need him. You haven't been drinking, have you Martin?"

"Not for the last couple of hours. I had a couple of beers earlier."

"Marty, I wish you would quit altogether. It is not good for you to drink. You know how you get after you have had a couple of drinks."

"Come on Tommy, I haven't been in trouble like that for years. I can handle it now." There was a long pause while each brother came to grips with their situation. It was humiliating for Martin to work for his younger brother. It was also the only job he could find. He had never been in jail, but he might as well have been. The reputation as a brawler followed him even into adulthood.

"That is true Marty, you seem to have calmed down but you really shouldn't drink at all. You know what that Doctor said."

"Like I said, my only defense is, I haven't been in trouble in years." He waited a moment then went on. "What brings you down here so late?"

"Oh hell same old thing, Mary and the whelp are at it again with me in the middle. Don't ever marry a woman with kids."

"Not much chance of that. Ain't no woman gonna want a gas station attendant. Even if I don't pump no gas."

"I told you Marty, any time you want you can come on days to work with the mechanic. Learn yourself a good trade."