Murder and Mayhem (40 page)

“And I’ve got some calls to make,” Drew said.

“Well, that just leaves us,” I said to Rosie. Do you
want to have a rest or would you like me to read my latest chapter?”

“I want to hear what’s happening in the fairytale world
so I don’t have to think about what’s happening in the real one.”

*****

The ground was littered with leaves from bare-branched
trees that glistened from the early morning drizzle.

Nicola tore her eyes away from the children playing in
the park and smiled over at him. “You didn’t finish telling me about your trip
through the south,” she said.

Danny drained the last of his coffee and signaled a
refill.

“Oh, sorry, where was I?”

“You were heading north.”

“That’s right. After I left Alabama I went to Tennessee,
home of sippin’ whiskey, country music, mountain men and Dollywood.” He smiled
his thanks to the waitress as she topped-up their coffee.

“Anything else I can get for you, folks?” the waitress
asked.

“Not for me, thanks. Nic would you like something
else? A slice of apple pie a-la-mode smothered in cream?”

“No, thank you, I’m fine,” Nicola said and the
waitress moved on to the next table.

“In Tennessee I went to Memphis–home of the Delta
blues–and visited Graceland,” Danny said.

“I would never have picked you for an Elvis fan.”

“I’m not, but it was a really hot day and so I went on
a tour of Graceland partly to get out of the heat, and partly because I didn’t
have anything else to do. I was just filling in time while I waited to meet up
with a guy who had some parts for me. Have you been to Memphis?”

“No. I haven’t been to that part of the country.”

“Memphis is a nice place. The Peabody Hotel on Union
Avenue is like something out of another era and there are some lovely old home
on Adams Avenue, but unless you’re an Elvis fan visiting Graceland is not
something I recommend you put on your ‘to do’ list.

*****

“You were never a big Elvis fan, were you, Bubbie?”

“Me? No. Roy Orbison was the man that did it for me. I
cried every time I heard him sing.”

“I was a Beatles fan. Loved Paul McCartney. I used to
dream he’d see me in a crowd one day, our eyes would meet and it would be love
at first sight,” she said, and let out a long sigh.

“I remember when you and Robyn wagged school and went
to the airport the first time they came to Australia.”

“Then we got sprung when our parents saw us on the
Channel Nine News and confiscated our Beatles records.”

I laughed. “I remember you cried nonstop for a week.
In the end Mum gave them back because she couldn’t stand it anymore, and then
you drove everyone nuts playing them over and over until Dad threatened to
chuck them in the rubbish bin.”

Rosie laughed and watched a small gray bird nesting in
the oak tree outside the window. “Do you ever see any of the old gang?” she
asked after a while.

“No. But a while back I came across one of the boys
from the old neighborhood–used to be a big Elvis fan. Stovepipe pants,
sideburns, hair combed over into a curl in front with a ducktail at the back.”

“Do you mean now, or then?”

“Then. He was so excited to see me after all these
years he kept going on about us having a ‘thing together’,” I said curling my
fingers in the universal quotation gesture. “I didn’t have a clue what he was
talking about and thought he must have had me confused with you.”

“What was his name?”

“Johnny Mancuso.”

“Italian guy! Mum would have tanned your hide if she
caught you going out with one of those–remember how she pronounced it–
Eye-talian
Casanovas.
”

“Tell me about it. I made the mistake of having this
cute Italian guy I’d met at the beach pick me up at home one night. Mum
answered the door, gave him the once over and sent him on his way. I met all my
dates on the street corner after that. Did you know him?”

“Who? The guy who came to the house?”

“No dopey. Johnny Mancuso.”

Rosie shook her head. “No. That name doesn’t ring any
bells with me. Did you know him?”

“Oh I knew him all right. He used to live with his
grandmother on Stanley Street. Tall, dark hair, cheeky grin, warm brown eyes
that could melt icebergs. But I don’t remember ever having a ‘thing’ with him.
Wish I had. He was real cute. But he was a mate of Brian’s and never gave me so
much as a look.” Brian had lived in the house opposite the one my sister and I
grew up in. He was a couple of years older and thought my sister and I were
annoying pests.

Rosie thought for a moment, and shook her head. “No.
Still doesn’t ring any bells. So what did you say to him?”

“Nothing. I decided to go along with it. Who knows, it
might give me some street cred in the old neighborhood. I’d like to be
remembered as that wild Bethany Palmer who had a ‘thing’ with Johnny Mancuso,
instead of that skinny kid who lived next to the church.”

Rosie laughed. “It would be more
exciting to have a reputation for being wild rather than not to be thought
about at all. Next time you run into someone from the old neighborhood do you
think you could start a rumor about me? I’d love to have had a tarnished
reputation. It would make me sound exciting and mysterious.”

“Okay. Next time I see any of the old gang I’ll do my
best to make you sound as trashy as possible,” I said with the best intention
in mind.

“Gee, thanks, Bee. I knew I could count on you.”

“That’s what big sisters are
for.”

*****

Nicola woke with his warm breath caressing her cheeks,
his lips soft on her mouth. When she opened her eyes she was surprised to see
Danny already dressed, holding fresh coffee and doughnuts from a bakery next
door.  She stretched like a cat, almost purring and plumped up the pillow. As
she leaned back the sheet fell away leaving her naked breasts exposed. Her
nipples suddenly hardened under his gaze. He placed the doughnuts and coffee on
the bedside table and stood for a moment looking down at her, his eyes dark
with desire then he leaned down and took one of her nipples into his mouth.

Nicola moaned.

Danny kicked off his loafers, removed his T-shirt and
shrugged off his pants. He stripped the sheet from her body and slid in beside
her. Nicola drew his face to hers and kissed him passionately.

“Lie down,” she whispered. Danny obeyed, his eyes
never leaving her face. She straddled his body and tucked her feet into his
sides. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulder as sunlight came in
through the window and cast a gold luster over her skin; her face exquisite.
She took hold his sex and guided it inside her.

“Oh God!” Danny moaned and grabbed hold of her hips.

She started out slowly, moving leisurely, feeling the
wetness of her vagina on his penis as it slid in and out gently stroking the
lips of her labia. She looked into his eyes, leaned forward, brushed her mouth
against his, nibbling his lips.

He could smell the sweet perfume of her body, the
shampoo in her hair, the scent of her sex.

Nicola sat upright, taking all his manhood inside. He
reached up and massaged her breasts, whispering her name hoarsely, the word
filled with desire.

“Do I please you?” she asked as she moved up and down
feeling him grow hard inside.

“Oh God. Yes!”

Nicola tightened her muscles, gripping him tight,
grinding her body against his. Danny grabbed hold of her hips and lifted her up
and down, thrusting deep with the downward motion, moving faster and faster,
their breathing erratic. Nicola whimpered; Danny groaned.

Suddenly, Danny roared as his body arched and
shuddered. Nicola gave a soft throaty moan and ground her body hard against his
as they rushed towards the moment no memory could enhance.

Danny wrapped his arms around Nicola and kissed her
eyes, her nose and her lips. “I love you so much that sometimes my feelings are
so overpowering I don’t know what to do. I feel if I stop to catch my breath,
you’ll disappear into the night, and when I wake up I’ll find you were only a
dream.”

Nicola turned pale and gave an involuntary shiver.

“Is something the matter?”

“I just had the weirdest feeling–like someone was
walking over my grave.”

* * *

He couldn’t sleep. He had tossed and turned all
through the night, and now lay waiting for the gray light of dawn to filter in
through the window. As the predawn mist rolled in from the Atlantic he shaved
and showered then woke his companion. In a little over an hour the SUV drove
out of the parking lot as the pewter-colored rain cloud gathered.

They traveled through the Osbornedale State Park where
rain fell gently, creating a light mist over the Housatonic River. Nicola
fiddled with the buttons on the radio as she searched for music but, stopped
briefly on a news report, her face rippled with the shadow of rain on the
window.

“… Early this morning the body of a young woman was
pulled from the river, north of New Haven. Authorities have confirmed her
identity to be a thirty-five year old local woman Gina …”

Danny hit the button on the steering wheel and changed
the station. “I don’t want to listen to the news. It’s too depressing.”

When loud music erupted from the speakers Nicola
leaned over and turned the volume down.

“Wasn’t that the name of the woman we met at the
beach?”

“Sorry, I wasn’t listening. What woman?”

“You remember–the woman with the large dog and small
boy. I’m pretty sure her name was Gina.”

Danny frowned. “I think it might have been. Why do you
ask?”

“The report on the radio said the body of a woman name
Gina something or other–I missed the last part –was found in a river north of
New Haven.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it Nic. There’s bound to be
more than one woman called Gina in Connecticut.”

Suddenly the voice of Axl Rose erupted through the
speakers. Danny thumped the steering wheel. “Now that’s more like it!” He
racked up the volume and they joined the GuNR’s in a loud rendition of Sweet
Child o’ Mine.

As they approached the dam, Danny noticed the cars
ahead had slowed to a crawl. When he lowered the window to try to see what the
problem was a large insect flew in and landed on his chest. He flicked it off,
shooed it out and buzzed up the window. A deer emerged from the shadows
scampered across the road and disappeared in the thick undergrowth while high
in the branches of an ancient oak tree, a bird caroled happiness.

Nicola laughed. “Creatures and critter–that’s country
life for you.”

“And, loving every minute of it,” Danny said.

As the cars edged slowly forward Danny noticed a
police cruiser by the side of the road. “There appears to be some sort of a
problem up ahead. It could be an accident.” He craned his neck forward for a
better look. “I can’t see any ambulances or tow trucks. Can you?”

Nicola buzzed down her window and tried to see around
the bend in the road. “No, I can’t see anything except a long line of cars.
Maybe someone has broken down.”

As they inched their way slowly forward, Danny noticed
a sheriff signaling cars to stop. After a brief exchange the drivers turned
their vehicles around and headed back the way they’d come.

Danny pulled his car forward and lowered the window.
He looked into the ruddy face of the local sheriff, and smiled. “What’s the
problem officer?”

“Sorry folks. The bridge up ahead is closed. You’ll
have to go back. Where’re you heading?”

“We’re going through to New York,” Danny said.

“In that case, turn around and go back to 188 and head
north where you’ll pick up 334. Go north again following the Eight Mile River
till you hit 84, The Yankee Expressway, and head south to Danbury. From there
it’ll be easy sailing.” He smiled, stepped back from the car and nodded the
vehicle behind to pull forward.

“Thanks, Sheriff, appreciate your help,” Danny called
after him. The sheriff turned, gave him a smile and tipped the brim of his hat
in a brief salute.

“Did you get all that?” Danny asked, grinning.

Nicola moved her finger across the roads marked
clearly on the Rand McNally Road Atlas “Yeah I did. It’s all right here on the
map.”