Journeys West Chapter 12 The Plot Thickens
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Journeys West - Chapter 6 - The Plot Thickens free porn video
Chapter 6 - The Plot Thickens
by Monica Rose and Marina Kelly
Proof-reader: Qmodo
Once she had finished breakfast, Mary headed back over to the library.
As she pulled into the parking lot, she saw Patrick standing outside the
building, arms folded and looking upset. Getting out of her car she
rushed to his side, "Pat, why are you pacing around out here?"
"I just got here and found the front door to the library open." He kept
looking up at the building as if he were expecting someone to come out.
"Have you gone inside?" She was a bit confused as to why Pat was
standing out here. It could be a simple reason after all.
"No, not yet. I just got here. I'm not the only one with a key to the
doors, but I usually know when someone will be here and it is rather
early in the morning for one of the town council to be here. I'm smart
enough to not go in without some backup and I was waiting for you to be
my backup."
Mary Sue was shocked. She was a lot of things but not a trained SWAT
team operative.
He stopped for a moment and said, "If I'm not back in five minutes call
the cops."
Mary Sue breathed a sigh of relief and dug her phone out of her purse.
"Be careful Pat, they may still be in there." Then Mary Sue watched him
disappear behind the large door.
Despite Pat's warnings, she moved up to the double doors so that she
could see inside. She was kneeling just outside the door, examining the
lock, when Pat came running back to the front.
Breathlessly he related, "I've been through the building, but whoever was
here is gone. My office and the main floor appear to be undisturbed. It
looks whoever they were focused their efforts on the basement. I didn't
do an inventory, but all the newspapers we were working on yesterday are
gone."
As Mary continued to kneel and examine the lock, Pat had to ask, "What
are you doing?"
"I was just looking to see if the lock had been forced."
He frowned at her. "This may sound patronizing, but you appear to know
what you are doing. I thought you were a college student."
She smiled at him. He was right, it did sound patronizing, but not
really insulting. "I'm a history research specialist. Since we deal
mostly with dead people and past events, we are trained to look for
explanations to puzzles. Also, my uncle is a locksmith. I spent a
couple of summers working with him and I was the only one with patience
enough to get some of the really stubborn locks open." She looked up at
Pat and said, "This lock was not forced."
A flustered Patrick tried to use humor as a way to apologize for
underestimating this fascinating woman. "Sherlock, are you sure about
that?"
Mary bantered back, "It's elementary, my dear Watson, there is nothing to
indicate forced entry and I can't see any signs of it being picked; in
fact, this lock is pristine."
"That makes sense; they're only a month old. All the locks were
replaced."
Mary inquired, "Who has a key?"
Pat scratched his chin, "Well let me think. I have one of course, the
town council has a key to all public buildings, the police and fire
departments each have one for emergencies, that's all I know of."
Mary took Pat by the hand and led him down to the basement, "Let's do a
detailed inventory of the files. What's missing might give us a clue as
to what the vandals were after."
After an exhaustive search, the two found that the piles of newspapers
they had gathered from 1897 and 1898. A disappointed Mary Sue brushed
the dust from her hands, "That's too bad, keeping source documents are
important, but not critical. I took plenty of notes yesterday and I got
pictures with my phone of the most of the pages. The quality isn't the
best, but it's readable. I think we got most of the information that was
available already. I can see if the historical society can fill in any
blanks that I might see. I'm not sure if the microfilm copies will be
very useful though."
"Are your notes safe?" Patrick asked, concerned that her work might be in
jeopardy.
Mary Sue held up her backpack, she grinned, "Oh, yes. My notebooks are
with me all of the time. We still need to report this to the
authorities."
"You're right; we need to talk to the sheriff about Yolanda anyway. I'll
make the report then."
Pat led Mary up the stairs to the main lobby. At the top, he turned to
her and said, "I have a confession to make. I couldn't sleep last
night."
Mary beamed and wondered if his dreams were a reflection of hers.
"That name Yolanda - there was just something familiar about it. While I
was shaving this morning, it hit me. I found something while I was
cleaning the library loft last summer."
"Really? About Yolanda?"
He shrugged and explained, "I'm a one man show around here, librarian,
janitor, grounds keeper and maintenance man all rolled into one. I found
a large steamer trunk that had been gathering dust for eons. I found a
bunch of antique woman's clothes; I mean bustles and high button shoes
old, they were all museum quality and well preserved. I searched the
trunk trying to find out who they might belong to and I came across a
notebook with flowers drawn on the cover.
"The flyleaf inside had a very unusual name penned on it: It had a very
strange name I think it was 'Yandilo.' It had been neatly scratched out
and replaced in the same fancy script with the name 'Yolanda.'"
Mary Sue's eyes lit up. "Are you sure?"
"Words are how I make my living, something that unusual makes an
impression. So yes I am sure."
"Please can we go look now before we go to the police station?"
"Of course," Pat said with a smile. He led her to the foot of a narrow
stairway on the south wall that led up to a trap door in the ceiling 18
feet above. "It's up there, wait here. Last time I was up there the
light bulb was burnt out. I have a spare in the utility closet, I'll be
right back."
Mary was antsy with anticipation and didn't want to wait. Halfway up she
was glad that she had decided on pants today, she had thought about
putting on a dress. Climbing ladders or stairways and flashing her
underwear just wasn't her style.
Pat was in the rear of the library looking for a replacement lightbulb
when he heard Mary scream. He took off at a dead run figuring he must
have missed the intruders and they had surprised her. He slid to a stop
on the polished wood floors, inches from a shaken Mary Sue.
"What is it, did you see someone?"
"I was attacked!"
Confused, Pat asked, "Who attacked you? Where are they?"
"Not who but, what! I opened the trap door and it charged me, it was
gruesome with gigantic teeth. I almost fell all the way down the
stairs."
More bewildered than ever, Pat said, "Wait here, I'll go get a
flashlight. Hold this and don't move. I mean it this time." He handed
her the lightbulb.
Pat returned with a flashlight in hand. As he reached the top, he
flicked on the flashlight and carefully opened the door a crack to shine
the light in. Thirty seconds later, he flipped the door all the way open
and disappeared from view. If he hadn't been a gentleman and didn't need
her help, he would have been laughing hysterically.
He looked back out the door and called down to her "I see the problem but
I need you to go behind the front desk and get the box that is on the
floor. Then I need you, the box and the light bulb up here."
"What's the problem?" she asked
"One, I need the light bulb to free up my hand. Two, I need to put
something in the box. Three, you're going to help me get it in the box."
"What's going in the box?"
"Come on city girl don't tell me you're scared." He chided with a
chuckle.
"I'm not scared I just want to be prepared," she muttered to herself as
she went for the box. "Besides, I grew up on a farm."
When Mary came back, with the bulb and the box, she tapped on the attic
door. Pat reached out to take the box from her and she edged into the
loft. There were far too many shadows in the room to be able to see
whatever was lurking.
Pat replaced the burnt-out bulb and the loft was immediately filled with
light. Pat smiled, "Now for the fun part. We have to catch our friend
over there." He aimed the flashlight beam into the corner. Two little
red eyes gleamed at the pair. Mary was embarrassed to see that the
creature she had been so scared of was a scrawny possum.
Pat handed Mary the box, "You follow me holding this open so I can put
him in it. When I get him in you close the box as quick as you can.
They have a nasty bite, so we don't want to him the opportunity for a New
York City taste test."
"And just how do you plan on catching that wild animal?" The varmint was
a typical possum, incredibly ugly.
"Well...the way I have done it in the past seems to work well," Pat turned
off the flash light causing the opossum to blink. He slowly walked
toward the animal. As he got closer, it did the strangest thing, it fell
over." Pat reached out quickly to grab the possum by the scuff of the
neck. Just as fast, he turned and put the opossum into the box. He
helped Mary Sue to close the box as the critter started clawing to get
out.
"This is what attacked you, right?"
An embarrassed Mary meekly said, "It looked a lot different in the dark.
Besides it snarled at me. I never liked these things while I was growing
up either."
They took the boxed animal outside where they released it in the yard
outside. As they watched it waddle off to the woods, Mary Sue asked, "Do
you wrangle opossums a lot?"
"No, just enough to know that if you move slowly they play dead, you move
fast they freak out, just like some women."
@ @ @ @
Mary Sue allowed Pat to lead the way back up the stairs. Once in the
loft, it was relatively easy to find the trunk he was looking for. As he
pulled it across the floor, Mary Sue bit her lower lip in anticipation.
She could see that the trunk was very old, she was surprised by how well
preserved it appeared to be. As Pat opened it, Mary Sue was surprised to
smell the pleasant aroma of violets. On top of the clothing inside, she
could see a spray of dried violets that must have still retained their
scent after all these years.
Pat fished around among the old clothing inside for the notebook he was
talking about, taking pains to avoid damaging the flowers. He drew out
the book and reverently held it out to Mary Sue and, bowing from the
waist, said in his best English accent, "My lady, your treasure."
Mary Sue took the leather bound book and held it as if it were a fragile
newborn bird. She ran her fingers over the flowers etched into the
cover. The edges were worn from use. As she opened the cover to look
inside, she held her breath for fear that the pages would crumbled in her
fingers. She was thrilled to find that the pages were not pulp paper
that seldom lasted longer than a few years. Instead, each page seemed to
be made of parchment, which added a lot to the book's longevity.
As Pat had said, she saw that the name Yolanda had been written in above
Yandilo's. The handwriting certainly appeared to be the same, she hoped
that the reason the owner changed their name was somewhere inside. She
scanned one page and then another and another. Just the beginning of the
diary told her that she was holding a true window into the past. With
eyes wide, she looked up.
"Listen to this," she said excitedly and she read some passages from the
beginning of the book.
May 1896 -
My name is Yandilo Petalengro. Mama has given me this this journal for
my 15th birthday. She says now that I have almost finished school, she
is going to teach me all she knows about herbs and flowers. This journal
is for me to write in as I learn from her. I will be able to help gather
things she needs without her by my side.
With this training I could make an honest living as a healer. I don't
think she is happy with how father supports us. She says it isn't good
to go through life taking things from others. I think that she wants
father to get a job instead of gambling and stealing. My teacher says I
am a good enough student that I could get a teacher certificate as well.
I like both ideas. I will help Mother for now.
June 1896
I helped Mama today with the birth of Samuel Anderson. Mrs. Anderson
sent her daughter Susan to get Mama because she needed help delivering
her baby. Mama said that she might need me. I didn't know what I could
do to help but went with her. When we got to the house, I could hear
Mrs. Anderson. I have never heard a noise like that before. I stayed by
the door while mama went to check. Susan just stared at me with her big
green eyes. I don't think she'd heard anything like that either.
Samuel Anderson was born four hours later. I got to hold him for a
little while. He was so small and helpless. Mama has helped with a lot
of births but this was my first. Mama said that this was a breach birth
and she had to do something special to help the baby. I will have to ask
her later what she did.
Mary Sue scanned through the book, stopping every few pages and looked up
with tears of joy in her eyes. She held the book out toward Pat. "Do
you have any idea what this is? It's Yolanda's personal journal, it
looks like she chronicled the entire trek here. This is absolutely
priceless; I could kiss you." She noted to herself that Yandilo appeared
to be educated and literate, she wished that she could have known him.
She looked at the remainder of the diary briefly, seeing that every page
was filled with neat, readable script.
Pat stood by, watching Mary Sue look through her treasure. He realized
she was just caught up in the moment, but didn't care. It would be
unconscionably ill-mannered to simply let it pass and not take advantage
of her offer. He stepped around the trunk that stood between them and
slid his arms around her.
She jumped in surprise at his touch, but she didn't feel threatened like
she had when the cowboy had tried to grab her. She peered up at him, her
breath catching briefly as she took in the expression on his face and the
hunger in his deep blue eyes. The excitement she felt over the journal
melded with some of her dreams from the night before. She smiled at him
as he bent toward her. Her eyes closed as his lips touched hers. Her
mouth was soft and warm. Just as he knew they would be. He moved slowly
and he felt her relax into him. His hand slid up her back to the back of
her head. His fingers filled with her hair. His kiss deepened as he
cradled her head. Much sooner then he would have liked he gently pulled
away. Her eyes fluttered open and he smiled down at her.
He inhaled the rose scent in her hair, loving the feel of holding her in
his arms.
"Now I know what they mean about moving slowly with women. I need to
ask. Do you have a boyfriend back in New York?"
Mary was unsure where this conversation was headed. She knew how she
wanted to interpret his question, but how did he mean it? Did he want
this to be something serious or was he only interested in a fling? After
all, she didn't live here. So she hedged her bets, "I am seeing
someone."
Seeing the devastation on his face she went on, "It's not serious, we are
just acquaintances at this point."
"You don't love him?"
Her eyes widened as she replied emphatically, Oh, heavens no!" As if
Friedman would ever be anything more than a colleague and her advisor.
Even thinking of the man in a romantic context made her feel ill. She
had just realized that she had totally misrepresented her relationship
with her professor in an attempt to keep this relationship from moving
too fast.
They stood their faces only a breath apart.
He merely spoke her name, "Mary." It was a mere groan on his lips as he
took her in his arms and kissed her again. It went from sweet, warm
embers as their lips first met, to the roar of a full-blown blaze as his
tongue pushed past her soft unresisting lips. Their hearts beat as one.
Mary remembered her dream and knew that it paled in comparison to the
real thing. She could even smell the violets from her dream. Fire
seemed to creep down her body like a fuse with sparks shooting off in all
directions. Soon the heat would be more then she could take.
He pulled her against his chest, his hand sliding to the base of her
spine and he applied gentle pressure, their bodies fitting perfectly
together. Pat felt an excitement unlike anything he had ever experienced
before, it was pure unadulterated pleasure. His heart leapt, she stole
his very strength. His legs were shaking. Mary's body melted in his arms
like chocolate over a warm fire. Her arms slid up around his neck, her
hands gripping his hair, her lips opening hungrily beneath his
inquisitive tongue. It seemed to him it had just begun when she gently
pushed him away.
Pat eased his hold on her but, not letting go. He wasn't sure of his own
balance and he could feel her trembling as well. They stood looking into
each other's eye. Both breathless struggling with feelings neither knew
what to do with.
Softly he said, "I've wanted to do that since I first met you. Mary, you
are a beautiful lady."
Mary swallowed as a shiver swept over her. Feeling out of her depth she
cast her eyes about looking for something to distract her. She was hard
pressed to explain her weak-kneed, response to the kiss. She had been
kissed before but this was different.
She managed to create a little distance between them. Pat looked at her
flushed face and inquired, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," She answered, the blush in her face making it obvious that
she was lying. "It's just a bit warm up here. Perhaps we better go. You
still need to report the break-in to the police." She carefully put the
journal in her bag as they made their way back to the main floor.
As they walked, Pat inhaled deeply. "I thought that I smelled roses in
your hair," he commented. "But all I can smell right now is lavender."
Mary Sue stopped for a moment and sniffed. "I thought that I was
imagining things, but I think that it is actually violets." She was not
ready to tell Pat that she had been dreaming about him. "I don't know
where it came from though. My conditioner is rose scented, it must be
the sachet from the trunk."
Pat looked thoughtful and then replied, "That trunk is almost a 100 years
old. How could flowers retain their scent that long?"
Mary Sue shrugged and said, "It's the only explanation that makes any
sense."
They continued out the door where Pat relocked it. It was a dazzling
sunlit day and the police station was only a few blocks away. Pat
reached down and took Mary Sue's hand. As they walked hand-in-hand, they
could see the rear of the diner Liz worked at. The door opened and two
women came out. Pat and Mary Sue watched as they
stopped to talk in the shade of a large oak tree.
Mary Sue asked, "Isn't that Liz? Who's she with?"
Pat squinted in the bright sunshine to see and replied, "Yeah, that's Liz
and Samantha, the sheriff's wife."
Mary waved a friendly hello and Liz returned it with equal sociability.
Samantha, on the other hand, retreated behind Liz, as if she was trying
to be invisible.
Mary concerned inquired. "The sheriff's wife, I don't want to get you in
trouble, or subject you to possible scandal. Do you think she'll tell
her husband she saw us together?"
Pat laughed heartedly, "Mary, I can tell you don't know how small towns
work. You blow your nose and everyone within cell phone coverage knows
the color of your handkerchief. Gossip is a fact of life, besides I'm
proud to be seen with a beautiful woman. Let the wags say what they
want."
Mary turned to him and took a step into Pat's personal space so that they
were almost nose-to-nose. "In that case, do you want to give them
something to gossip about?"
If he was shocked by the question, he didn't show it. Mary shifted
uncomfortably embarrassed by her forward behavior. "I'm sorry. Please
forget that I --."
Her words died in her throat as Pat pulled her into an embrace. Mary
gasped in surprise; Pat took full advantage of that, his tongue sweeping
in to enjoy her sweetness.
Then a horrified voice from a gray haired woman walking her dog spoke
out, "Patrick, what are you doing right there on the sidewalk in front of
God and everyone, you should be ashamed." The look on the lady's face
really did not seem too outraged though.
Pat smiled broadly, not embarrassed at all; he wanted this woman.
"Good morning Harriet. This is Mary Sue from New York. We're working
together on some library research." Then he grinned impishly, "I was
going to ask her if she wanted to do some research this evening for
dinner. What do you think?"
Harriet returned Pat's easy smile and said, "I think that would be a nice
thing. You make a good looking couple." Harriet winked at them and
allowed her spaniel to pull her down the street.
In his entire life, Pat had never contemplated marriage. But after two
days, Mary Sue was all he could think about. Pat had never felt this way
to this extent about a woman before. His experience with many of the
women here in town had them throwing themselves at him many times. Mary
was different. She was smart, independent, and irresistible. His body
was ready for her now, but he knew that like that opossum, he needed to
move slowly. He wanted to have her with him at every meal, and much,
much, more. He wanted to make her feel safe and loved.
For her part, Mary wasn't paying attention to their route; she was just
enjoying her time with Pat. She looked up and saw that they were passing
the town's only fire station. Mary had hold of Pat's hand and pulled him
toward the open bay door. Pat led her past the gleaming red fire engine.
Mary stopped to stare when suddenly a gravelly voice spoke from behind
startled her. "She's a beauty ain't she? Diesel engine, with seats for
five, a brand new Navstar system, and it has a 1,000 gallon self-
contained water tank."
Mary turned and realized she had seen this guy before at the caf? while
eating breakfast. Pat made the introductions, "Miss McLaughlin, let me
introduce you to our fire chief. Dave, this here is Mary Sue."
"Yes, I've heard all about you. How is your research going? Productive
I hope."
"I'm sorry; I didn't catch your name." She was just antsy enough to want
to be cagy about what she was doing here in town.
The fire chief was an older gentleman, with the dark leathery skin that
seemed to defy you to guess at an age. She could see that he had a lot
of Native American in him. A friendly smile split his face as he held
out a big meaty paw and said, "I'm Dave Wilson. I've been the fire chief
her since you were knee high to a grass hopper, everyone just calls me
Chief. I'm the only full time fireman, the rest of my crew are
volunteers, 6 men and 2 women."
Mary took charge, Pat as Watson stood back and listened, "Chief, the
library was broken into last night. But thieves used a key to gain
entry. I understand you have a copy."
"Why sure, the keys to all public building are hanging on the rack in my
office. I didn't notice any missing but I can look if you would like."
After a quick count, the Chief announced, "They're all accounted for.
Course this place is never locked; anyone could have borrowed it for a
spell."
After a quick thank you, the couple resumed their walk.
As they got to the Sheriff's office, Pat told Mary, "Let me do the
talking."
"That's fine with me, that guy gives me the creeps."
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