Cordy set aside her beer bottle and pulled another from the ice chest under the table. “So, why did you start accepting our invitations?” she asked curiously, handing Oakley a fresh bottle.

  Oakley tipped the bottle in thanks and cracked it open. “Honestly? You and Jenica are the reason. I was so excited to be reunited with the one real friend I had growing up, and spending time with the two of you made me realize that I was enjoying myself. I hadn’t had that feeling in more years than I can count. It felt good to be included again, and Stormie and I talked about it after we got home.”

  “She told me that she felt the same way. She’s always liked Jenica, and she’s even talked about her over the years. I just didn’t know it was the same Jenica that I knew,” she added with a chuckle as she gazed across the yard.

  “We agreed to be more social with the two of you, and see how things went. If we start feeling lost again, we will go back to the way things were. So far, we’re both enjoying ourselves. It’s nice to have friends again.”

  Cordy followed Oakley’s gaze and smiled. Jenica and Stormie were up to their elbows in potting soil. Both women were dressed in short bib-overalls and gardening gloves. With their backs to the porch, and their attention on the flowers they were planting along the fence line, all Cordy could see was two perfect, denim-clad asses.

  “Can, um,” Cordy stumbled sheepishly, “can you tell which of those filthy beasts is your wife?”

  Oakley barked out a laugh and tilted her head. Both women were wearing sun hats, so their hair was not visible from the porch. Their arms and legs, which would have been an easy indicator, were just as dirty as the rest of them. She knew which woman was Stormie, but she played along with Cordy’s game.

  “I don’t know,” she said loudly, so her voice would carry across the yard, “I know my wife is over there, but from this angle, I can’t tell which ass is mine, and which is yours.”

  Cordy snorted, shooting beer through her nose. “Nice,” she croaked, swiping the drink from the front of her shirt.

  Jenica and Stormie turned toward each other, their heads swiveling to look at their wives. Cordy and Oakley watched as the two glanced at each other, smiling as they whispered back and forth. When both women nodded, Oakley and Cordy exchanged a glance.

  Shifting their attention back to the yard, both women straightened as Jenica and Stormie stood and headed back toward the porch. Stormie reached out and took Jenica’s hand, swinging it merrily as they sauntered up to the stairs and stopped at the bottom.

  “The only asses we see are lazing about on the porch,” Stormie said, grinning wickedly at Oakley.

  “Right,” Jenica said, her eyes meeting Cordy’s, “only a real ass would leave their wife in the hot sun without so much as an offer of a cold drink.”

  Cordy and Oakley shared another quick look, before holding their drinks out to their wives. Jenica and Stormie giggled and shook their heads. “Too little, too late,” Stormie said, tossing the sun hat from her head.

  “We’re going to cool off our own way,” Jenica added, tossing her own hat to the ground, “and you two aren’t invited.”

  Cordy’s eyebrow arched. She knew that look in Jenica’s eye, and she was surprised that the woman had convinced Stormie to play along. Stormie didn’t seem like the type of woman that was into exhibitionism.

  She decided to call Jenica’s bluff, and stayed in her seat. When Oakley started to stand, Cordy put out a hand and stopped her. “Let’s see how far they’re willing to take this,” she whispered.

  Oakley stayed in her seat and watched, her eyes riveted on Stormie.

  As their wives watched, Jenica and Stormie unbuckled the straps on their overalls and let them fall to the ground. Oakley’s jaw dropped, and Cordy’s eyes bulged. Neither had expected that.

  Clad only in their t-shirts and panties, Jenica and Stormie ran across the yard to get the hose. Cordy met Oakley’s excited eyes and the women spoke in unison.

  “Wet t-shirts!” they exclaimed, slapping each other a high-five.

  Jenica and Stormie returned to the bottom of the stairs with evil grins on their beautiful faces. Jenica aimed the hose at Stormie and counted down from three. Oakley and Cordy stood and stepped to the edge of the deck, to get a better view.

  When she reached one, Jenica quickly turned the hose away from Stormie, showering Oakley and Cordy with a burst of icy water.

  Cordy gasped and looked down as her white tank top began to reveal the lacy black bra she wore underneath. Oakley mirrored her friend’s surprise, as her own thin white blouse turned sheer. Unlike Cordy, who preferred to only wear black undergarments, Oakley’s bra was bright red.

  The two women stood, staring in surprise at each other, as their wives practically rolled on the ground with laughter. Cordy glared at them and tilted her head. Oakley nodded and the two bolted off the porch, completely bypassing the three stairs.

  Jenica and Stormie squealed as they took off in different directions. Oakley and Cordy gave chase, each catching up to their respective wife in a matter of seconds.

  Cordy wrapped her sopping wet arms around Jenica’s dirt-covered body and pulled her close. “Caught ya,” she whispered, pressing her breasts to Jenica’s, “You know I love it when you’re my dirty girl.”

  Jenica bit down on her lower lip and batted her long lashes. “And you know I love it when you clean me up. Especially when you use your tongue.”

  Cordy’s thighs trembled and she suppressed a groan. “It’s getting late,” she whispered, her voice heavy with arousal, “I think we should go to bed.”

  Jenica giggled and nodded, breaking the embrace to pull Cordy toward the house.

  “See you later,” Oakley called as she waited, impatiently, for Stormie to slip back into her shorts, “It’s, um, it’s getting late. We’re going to get home and, uh, get to bed.”

  Cordy and Jenica laughed, flashing their friends a knowing grin. They waited and showed the blonde couple out, before practically dragging each other toward the bedroom. The sound of tires peeling out of the drive signaled Oakley and Stormie’s departure, just as the Grandfather clock in the dining room chimed in the 3 pm hour.

  ~ Chapter 7: August ~

  “Okay, team,” Frost said, bringing the Friday morning meeting to order, “how many of you still have suspects?” The detectives had been working hard, diligently investigating each of the names they’d been delegated.

  Amelia Arroyo, Sondra Juluis, and Cordy all raised their hands.

  “The rest of you have eliminated all your suspects?” Frost asked, surprised.

  The other detectives nodded, save for Lasco. He was busy staring at Frost. He appeared to be focused on her chest, which made the Agent cringe.

  “Eyes are up here, Lasco,” Frost said, snapping her fingers to get his attention.

  Lasco’s face flamed. “Get over yourself,” he grumbled, folding his arms over his chest, “I was looking at your necklace. You’ve got nothing that interests me.”

  Frost’s hand flew to the necklace, a simple gold trinity symbol, before tucking it quickly beneath her blouse.

  “Alright,” she said, changing the subject back to the task at hand, “Arroyo, how many names do you still have?”

  “Just one,” Amelia said, “Amber Taft. She’s forty-nine, blonde, and routinely drives the CRBC trucks to and from the Eastgate homeless camp. She has an alibi for the last few murders, but it’s not solid.”

  “Julius?” Frost asked, busying herself with the whiteboard. A photo of each of the women on the list had been pinned to the board, under the name of the Detective investigating them. As the suspects were eliminated, their photo was moved to the ruled-out column.

  “I also have one,” Sondra replied, flipping open her notepad, “Katrina Brown, forty-four, brunette. Says she can’t remember what she was doing on the nights in question. She was involved in a custody fight, back in her early twenties, that was never resolved.”

  Frost, along with the rest of the room, turned to stare at the woman. “Never resolved?” Frost asked.

  Julius nodded. “The ex-husband absconded with the kids, to parts unknown. No one’s been able to find them. There’s a missing/endangered alert out, that’s still active.”

  “Interesting,” Frost muttered, removing the rest of the photos under Sondra Julius’ name. “How about you, Cordy?”

  Cordy shifted nervously in her seat. She avoided the Agent’s eyes, choosing instead to inspect the pictures under her name.

  “I, uh,” Cordy swallowed and cleared her throat, “Three. The first is Stormie Carter. Forty-one, blonde, drives the CRBC trucks almost every day she’s volunteering. Was involved in a sealed case, fifteen years ago.”

  Cordy watched Frost’s face, trying to gauge her reaction. The woman’s professional mask was firmly in place, and didn’t falter. Cordy was grateful for that.

  “Second is FBI Agent Paulette Barnes. She’s thirty-nine, blonde, and has been a driver at CRBC for six years. Her father heads the outreach office that utilizes the trucks. Some of her alibis are solid, but others are pretty shaky. She lost her four-year-old son fifteen years ago. The boy drowned in the babysitter’s pool, and the babysitter was only given five years for failing to protect him while in her care.”

  “Lastly, there’s Beth Faustino. Forty-eight and blonde. She’s not supposed to be driving the trucks, but admits to taking driving duties for Agent Barnes. Fifteen years ago, she was living in Salem with her wife and four-year-old daughter. She was also eight-months pregnant.”

  “While out running errands, a drunk driver ran a red light and slammed into her car. The daughter was killed instantly, and Faustino was seriously injured. While at the hospital, she learned that the unborn baby had also died, and she underwent an emergency hysterectomy to save her life.”

  Frost nodded and finished rearranging the photos. “Okay. Let’s get into the deeper runs on the suspects. See if we can narrow it down further. We’ll meet up again, next week.”

  Cordy hung back, waiting for the room to empty. Once everyone was gone, she rubbed her hands on her pants, and took the bull by the horns.

  “Oakley?” she asked, bracing herself for an angry outburst.

  “Yeah? What can I do for you?” Oakley asked, giving the Detective her full attention.

  “I just want you to know,” Cordy began, shoving her hands in her pockets, “I did my best to eliminate Stormie. Her age, the loss of your child, her career, everything fits the profile. I’d be a lousy detective if I eliminated her, solely based on my opinion of her.”

  Oakley studied the nervous redhead. She could see that Cordy spoke the truth, and she appreciated it. “I appreciate your candor, Cordy. I understand why you can’t eliminate her. I wish you could take my word for it, but the law doesn’t work that way. I know my wife, and I can’t imagine she would murder anyone. Do what you have to do to catch the killer. That’s the only way we’ll be able to fully eliminate her.”

  Cordy stared at the agent, unsure of what to say. She knew she’d never be that understanding, if their roles were reversed.

  “Weren’t expecting that, were you?” Oakley asked with a smile.

  Cordy chuckled. “To be honest? No, I wasn’t. You’re a better woman than I, Oakley Frost. I’d be out of my mind trying to defend my wife’s innocence.”

  “I want to explain something to you, Cordy. I’m only doing this, because I want you to understand something about Stormie. I was six weeks pregnant when we met,” Oakley said, her professional demeanor never wavering.

  “Ours was an instant, Earth-shaking love. Within eight weeks, we were married, and eagerly awaiting the birth of the child she’d already bonded with. Exactly five months after our wedding, Trinity Arianna Carter-Frost was born.”

  “We chose her name carefully, as my wife insisted it have a deep, personal meaning. We talked about it, during the whole pregnancy, and finally made the decision on the day our baby was born.”

  “Trinity; meaning three. She was the third member of our little family. Arianna; meaning whole, or complete. It was perfect, because our beautiful, blonde-haired baby girl completed our family.”

  “That’s why you were so upset when Gibson made fun of Stormie’s name,” Cordy guessed, connecting the dots.

  Oakley nodded. “I defend my wife every day, Cordy. Losing Trinity nearly destroyed us both. Most people don’t see the mask she wears for them. Like you defended Gibson, I tend to have to persuade people to not be offended by the things Stormie sometimes says. Life hasn’t been kind to us, and sometimes, people tend to see her as cold or malicious, when she’s just trying to keep the pain of loss at bay.”

  Cordy sighed. She understood now, why Oakley wasn’t trying to convince her of Stormie’s innocence. The more Oakley objected to it, the more suspicious it would look to the investigation. She wanted Cordy to rule Stormie out properly, without feeling pressured to ignore whatever came to light.

  “What does my word mean to people who don’t know me?” Oakley asked, “I can declare Stormie’s innocence, I can shout it from the rooftops, but what good would it do? People are a mystery, Cordy. No matter how much we know about someone, there’s always a part of them that they don’t show to others.”

  ***

  “Hey, Cordy, can I talk to you for a minute?” Amelia Arroyo touched Cordy’s elbow, as the Detective left the conference room. The Friday morning task force meeting was the only real chance Amelia got to speak to her colleague.

  “Sure, what can I do for you?” Cordy said, stepping out of the traffic in the small hallway.

  Amelia glanced around, checking to make sure they weren’t overheard. “I wanted to ask you about Lita Vasquez,” she said. Amelia wasn’t one to beat around the bush, and chose to get right to the point.

  Cordy crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall. “Lita? What about her?”

  Amelia smiled and stuck her hands in her pockets. “Is she gay?”

  Cordy grinned. She’d suspected the younger Detective was harboring a crush on the attractive Medical Examiner. “She is. Why do you ask?”

  Amelia’s eyes lit up. “Is she single?”

  Cordy nodded. “Last I heard. As far as I know, she and her girlfriend broke up last year. I haven’t heard that she’s seeing anyone new.”

  Amelia frowned and appeared suddenly nervous. “Would you know? If she was seeing someone, I mean.”

  Cordy nodded again. “Lita and I are friends, and she’s also friends with my wife. If she was seeing someone, we would know.”

  Amelia’s smile returned, lighting up her eyes. “Do you think she would accept, if I asked her out?” The sexy Latina Medical Examiner had been on Amelia’s mind, since their first meeting.

  Amelia’s name may sound Latin, but she was not. Her grandfather had come to America as a child, and married a white woman. Her father, following in his father’s footsteps, also married a white woman, leaving Amelia and her brother with very little physical trace of their Mexican heritage.

  Cordy studied the eager young woman with a smile. Physically, Amelia fit Lita’s preferred type. She had dark hair, a slightly tanned complexion, and deep brown eyes. Cordy couldn’t remember ever seeing Lita with a woman who didn’t fit Amelia’s description.

  “She might,” Cordy answered with a shrug, “I can’t say for certain. You do seem to fit her type, though,” she added with a smirk.

  Amelia blushed. She was a confident woman, but the idea that she might have a chance with the Latin beauty, made her heart race.

  “Is she, um,” Amelia wasn’t sure how Cordy would react to her next question, but she needed to know the answer, “Does she prefer to be seen with women who are more butch, or more femme?”

  Cordy barked out a laugh. “Sorry,” she said, embarrassed by her reaction, “Lita doesn’t belong to a label, and I can’t honestly say if she has a preference. She’s just as comfortable with someone in a slinky dress and heels, as she is with someone in baggy jeans and sneakers.”

  Amelia’s heart raced faster, at the thought of seeing Lita in a slinky dress. “Thanks, Weston,” she said, chuffing Cordy on the shoulder.

  “You headed back to Marilynn?” Cordy asked, as Amelia took her leave. She knew where the Detective was going, but wondered if she’d admit it.

  “In a bit,” Amelia grinned, “I need to stop by the morgue and talk to the M.E, first.”

  Cordy laughed again, and offered the woman a wink. “Make sure she steps out of the suite, before you ask her. Asking her to dinner, over a dead body, doesn’t really have that romantic vibe that women look for.”

  ***

  Arnold Lasco sat at the far corner of the bar. The lighting was dim, casting him in shadow. A second whiskey sour was placed in front of him, and he nodded his thanks to the bartender. Lasco was a frequent patron of the only bar in Falls City, but rarely did he converse with anyone.

  Wallowing in self-pity, as he did most nights, Lasco’s attention was caught by a loud giggle. He looked down the bar, and his eyes lit on two blonde heads. The women were sitting close together, their hands clasped together on the bar. When one of the heads shifted, the other leaned over and whispered something in her partner’s ear.

  Frost, Lasco thought, when he caught a glimpse of her face.

  Lasco would never forget the face of Oakley Frost, nor that of her wife. The faces of both women haunted his dreams. These were the only two people in the world that he wished happiness on. He’d tried, time and again, to forget them. Each time, though, the face of that sweet little girl would swim into his mind.

  She would have been eighteen this year, he thought sadly. He’d realized this a few weeks ago, the day Weston had stopped to talk to him at his desk. Lasco was a private person. He didn’t have friends, or family to speak of. Lately, he’d taken to spending his evenings at the bar, hoping to wash away the memory of Trinity Frost’s last moments.

  How could something that lasted only a moment, haunt him so clearly, for so long. He’d wondered this, many times before, and had yet to come up with an answer. The only thing that had kept his demons at bay, at least over the past few weeks, was Oakley Frost.