Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (books on motivation .txt) 📗

“How was it today at the station?” Nicole picked up her fork, spiking three peas. She slowly brought them to her mouth and chewed.

“Good. Sheriff Walker, Sam that is, gave me the rundown of the department, surrounding areas and Dead Woman Crossing.”

“Did you meet Barb?” Nicole’s eyes lit up. It was clear Barb had the same effect on everyone she met.

“Yes. She seemed great. Got me a succulent for my office.”

“They don’t make women like Barb anymore,” David commented. He took a swig of his beer.

He was right. She had never met a woman like Barb before.

“Meet anyone else on the force?” David added.

“Just Deputy Burns. The rest of the day-shift workers were out patrolling or out on suspension.” Kimberley raised an eyebrow, looking up at David and then glancing at Nicole, gauging if they had heard anything about the woman abuser on the force.

“So, you’ve heard about Deputy Lodge?” David tilted his head.

“Yeah, Sam filled me in.”

“It’s wild. You think you know your neighbors. But what goes on behind their doors… you just never know,” David said, shaking his head.

“Yeah, it’s awful,” Nicole said just above a whisper.

“Did he tell you what happened?” David shoveled a hunk of meatloaf into his mouth.

Kimberley shook her head.

He took a swig of beer, rinsing out his mouth and cleared his throat.

“Apparently, Lodge got wasted at The Trophy Room and came home to his wife, Sarah. She had discovered he was having an affair, and when she confronted him, he beat her up pretty bad. He claimed he was drunk, and it had never happened before, but who knows?” David shrugged his shoulders.

“I actually stopped over at The Trophy Room on my way home. Quite the interesting place.”

Nicole nodded while taking a sip of her wine. David grabbed a roll from the basket and tore it in half.

“The Trophy Room is really a man’s place. No sense in you going there,” David said, stuffing a piece of bread in his mouth. “Besides, Lodge hangs out there and you just heard what kind of man he is.”

“I’m not afraid of Lodge. Plus, when his suspension is up, he’ll be working under me.”

David raised his brow. “I’m just saying, it’s more of a man’s place. There’s a nice coffee shop over on the strip and a beauty parlor next door. That’s where the women around here hang out.”

Kimberley cocked her head. “I go where I like, David.”

“Figured you’d say that. No stopping the East Coast from doing what they want here in Podunk, Oklahoma,” David replied, not raising his eyes from his plate.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I am woman, hear me roar. You got a point to prove?”

“Not trying to prove any points. I’m the chief deputy of this county. No place is off limits.”

“Just cause you’re a cop, don’t mean ya need to go stickin’ your nose everywhere. It’s like that saying—just cause ya can, doesn’t mean ya should.”

Kimberley was fuming. Who the fuck was this sexist, backward-ass man to tell her how to live and how to do her job? She was about to unload on him with both barrels and chew his ear off until he inevitably lumbered his ass back to bed. But no. That’s exactly what he wanted. He wanted to see the temperamental woman. The one who couldn’t keep her emotions in check. To make her look hysterical in front of her mother and upset her daughter. Kimberley wasn’t about to give him what he wanted.

“Ya know, maybe you’re right, David. I hadn’t thought about it like that. The more time I spend poking my nose into everything, the less time I have to do productive things. Maybe I can start patching up all the uniforms at the station and making the other deputies apple pies from time to time. And hell if I get off real early, I could head straight home, with a cold six-pack of Bud Light ready for you and I can get right down to the most important task of the day, making you dinner and then cleaning up after you. I guess this town won’t be so bad after all.”

“No sense in getting your panties in a bunch. I’m just warning ya. The Trophy Room ain’t the place for women.” David stabbed his fork into the meatloaf.

“The Trophy Room is child’s play to what I’ve seen in the city.” Kimberley narrowed her eyes and stuck a forkful of meatloaf in her mouth. She chewed on the meat while she chewed on the memories of her past… One stuck out most.

Kimberley remembered walking into the dark NYC studio apartment alone as her partner, Detective Hunter, was at a doctor’s appointment. Several officers had warned her that she’d never be able to unsee what she was about to behold, but that never swayed her. She owed it to the victim. The first thing that hit her was the smell: a mix of rotting eggs and iron. She had smelled dead bodies before, many times in fact, but this was different. It had its own brand to it, something else that had crept into the regular smell of rot and death. It hung thick and heavy in the air. She covered her mouth with her hand, but it was already inside of her lungs, wrapping in a coil around her bronchioles. The apartment was abandoned, with one room and then a bathroom off to the side. A forensics team was collecting samples from the spoiled food scattered on the counter and the dirty dishes stacked a couple feet high in the sink, hoping to pick up any traces of DNA. Thick, large cockroaches ambled over the counters. They didn’t scatter like most roaches do when people are around. They had staked their claim, as this was now their home. She closed her eyes before heading toward the bathroom, prepping herself for what she was about to find. She turned the corner slowly, pushing open the