My Bus Driver pt 3
- 4 years ago
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TransparenceChapter 5 free porn video
The ride through the city is quiet. Little has been said between the two since Yulia stepped out of the bedroom and Curtis explained that another murder was discovered. Yulia peers through the window to watch the people, the cars, the buildings all pass by in almost a blur. It reminds her much of home this time of year, but with much less snow. Curtis steals a glance or two from time to time. He wants to say something to break the silence between them, he just doesn’t know how.
Instead it is Yulia that does. “I want to apologize,” she says, still looking out the window. “I am guest in country. I must follow rules.”
Curtis lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head. Though he doesn’t think she can see it, Yulia does through the reflection the window casts. “I overreacted,” he puffs. “You’ve lost a partner and you’ve been on the trail of this killer for a long time. If it were me in your country I would act the same way.”
She turns her head for the first time since riding in the car and gives him a genuine smile. “It has been long time, though I feel like it has been longer.”
“I’ve had cases like that,” Curtis says, felling the ice finally being broken between them. “How many like this have you had?”
For a moment, Yulia looks at the man with a puzzled expression. Then it quickly changes and she answers, “This is my first, I suppose.”
He chuckles a little. “They don’t get easier, you just get used to them.”
“I guess so,” Yulia says, soundly oddly distant.
“These murders are ramping up. Were they happening this fast in Russia?”
Yulia shakes her head. “No. He wasn’t attacking so many.”
“Any idea why?” he prods.
Again she shakes her head. “Something must have make change.”
“Could be why he left and came here,” Curtis surmises. “Whatever the case is, we need to bust this asshole.”
Yulia grins and says, “It is what Americans call sooner rather than later, yeah?”
“Yeah, you can say that,” he agrees with a grin of his own. “We’re here.”
“This is it?” Yulia asks, her grin turning into a frown. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” he confirms and then asks, “Why?”
“This not like, how you say, normal,” Yulia tries to explain.
“You mean, it’s not his MO?”
“Yes, not normal place to find victims,” she says.
“It does seem a little odd, doesn’t it,” Curtis wonders aloud. “This is the first time it has been in a place like this. At least here it has. I suppose that it was the same in Russia.”
“Da.”
Curtis nods and cuts off the engine. “Come on. We’ll see what the medical examiner has to say about this one.”
They climb out of the car and slips past the police tape. Yulia follows Curtis to a balding man peeling off a pair of gloves. “Ah, Curtis,” the man says, dropping the gloves into a bag. “I see you’ve got assigned a partner finally.”
“Yeah, something like that,” Curtis replies. “What’s the status on this one?”
“It looks like a copycat,” the examiner says bluntly.
“I thought I was the detective here.”
Both men get a quick laugh before the examiner continues. “The testicles are still in place. In fact, the victim doesn’t show any signs of even having sexual intercourse.”
“Not even forceful entry?” Curtis asks.
“I wouldn’t even say he gave or was made to give a...” the examiner begins to say before being quickly cut off by Yulia.
“Where did he get that?” she asks, pointing to a metal lighter.
“It was on his person,” the examiner says as if the question was something ridiculous to ask.
“What apartment?”
“Apartment?” the man repeats.
“I think she means, do we know what apartment this guy is from,” Curtis offers.
“3B,” a uniform officer quickly offers. “We have it sealed off already.”
Curtis turns to offer Yulia to go see it but she is already a few steps ahead and going in that direction. When he catches the examiner’s eye, he shrugs and says, “She’s keeping me on my toes.”
By the time he reaches the apartment, Yulia is already inside, looking around. “Is there something you’re looking for in particular?” he asks.
Yulia doesn’t reply right away. Instead, she browses the sparse living space as if she were looking in jewelry cases, looking for a piece that is going to speak to her.
“Yulia?” he prompts.
“Nyet,” she snaps. For a moment her eyes and fingers rest on the worn wooden edge of a small music box.
Curtis notices the lingering and the oddity of the item. “That’s something that doesn’t seem right in here,” he offers, hoping to get a reaction from the woman.
“Da,” she answers shortly.
“Girlfriend maybe?” he presses. When Yulia doesn’t say anything to that, he continues. “You seem to be taken by it.”
“It is beautiful,” she answers faster this time. “I remember one from Russia. I do not remember where.”
The connection sends up a red flag in Curtis’ mind. He quickly steps over and snatches the box up, flipping it around. “Fuck.”
“What you look for?” she asks.
“A manufacturer,” he says. “Something that says where it came from,” he further explains.
“Probably generic,” she offers.
“Yeah, maybe,” Curtis says with a huff, setting the box down again. “Wait here. We’re going to need this place completely bagged and tagged. I don’t want to miss a single thing that could lead us to this asshole.”
As soon as the man is out the door, Yulia picks the box up again. This time she opens the lid and finds a slip of paper inside. Unfolding the paper, she frowns.
Slipping away from the scene was easy, especially with Curtis busy hunting up personnel. And while she doesn’t know the area, Yulia makes her way to the destination on the note using street signs and asking a few directions. In a day in age where everyone has a cell phone, she doesn’t. It is the fastest and easiest way to track someone, and Yulia doesn’t want to be tracked. She used to carry one, but other than that one reason she doesn’t really have an explanation as to why she doesn’t carry one.
She stands at the mouth of the alley, trying to peer into the darkness that lies at the end of it. The lighter belonged to Alexei. It was his, or one very similar. He would constantly pull it out and flick the lid open and then closed—a constant reminder of what he gave up to stay alive—turns out that it wasn’t his greatest fear after all. The music box was more like a fleeting memory. Yulia felt a connection, but she just cannot place from where or why. Finding the note inside might have seemed like fate, yet somehow she also knew to look for it there.
With a heavy sigh, Yulia shoves all her thoughts aside and takes a quick look from one side to the other before stepping in. She shifts her hand toward her holster, resting it on the butt of the gun. Step by step, the woman covers ground toward the back of the alley. Her heart beats faster and faster. She isn’t sure what to expect, other than the fact that this is an obvious trap. This knowledge alone keeps her on edge. Months of hunting the beast can come to an end here, whether it is her taking his life or him taking hers. Yet at the same time, with the feeling she has for him, Yulia does wonder if it will interfere with her killing him. Will it be ultimately what kills her?
All too soon she reaches the end of the alley. The darkness fades away or her eyes have quickly become accustomed to it. There is nothing here. There is no one waiting. There is no trap to be sprung. There is not even one of those large rats everyone around the world hears about. Then she hears a crunch of glass. Yulia spins around, her pistol slipping free of its holster. She drives the gun right into the face of ... a woman?
“I had a feeling you was a cop,” the woman says, smacking her gum.
“Who are you?” Yulia asks.
“The name’s Cindy Cruz,” the woman says, turning her head to spit out the gum.
“What are you here for?”
Cindy’s mouth curves up into a smirk. “Why for you, honey.”
“For me?” Yulia repeats as she tries to figure out just how this trap is going to work.
“Yeah, you’re right on time,” Cindy answers. “I was s’posed to be here waiting for ya, but I got hassled.”
“What is hassled?” Yulia asks. “I not understand hassled.”
“It don’t fucking matter,” Cindy says with a smirk, stepping in to close the distance. She pushes Yulia’s gun to the side and kisses the woman lightly on the mouth. “I been waiting all day for you.”
“What... ?” The single word is all Yulia can get out before Cindy presses in again. Her lips are soft and sensuous. Cindy opens her mouth slightly and Yulia’s tongue finds hers. She can feel herself getting aroused after even just a few moments of kissing this stranger. Cindy presses her body against the cop’s. She is ready to go, and Yulia presses deeper into her mouth, her gun falling from her hand to clatter on the hard ground.
After a moment, they pull away to draw a breath.
“Well ... that was a good start,” Cindy jokes.
Yulia is like a woman possessed. Any ideas of this being a trap are swept aside. Any logical notion that this isn’t normal goes right with the thought. She smiles at the woman and begin to unbutton Cindy’s jacket, sliding it off her shoulders. Though the ground is covered in snow and the air has a chill that would send chill through the most sensible people, neither woman seems to notice it. As Cindy tosses it to the ground, Yulia takes hers off and pulls the woman’s mouth to her again, feeling the swell of her soft breasts.
This time they kiss harder. It is as if it is more urgent. Cindy’s fingers roam over Yulia’s chest and ass while Yulia’s hand strokes the woman’s back. Still kissing, Cindy starts to undo Yulia’s blouse, pulling the fabric aside and pressing her mouth between the lovely breasts there, goosebumps and all. But Yulia pushes her away as if suddenly coming to the realization that this isn’t right, that this shouldn’t be this easy.
She doesn’t.
Yulia lifts the woman’s arms and draws the shirt up slowly over her shoulders. For a moment Cindy is before her, arms uplifted, face hidden, chest exposed and yielding to the material’s movement. Yulia notices for a second the way her skin pales slightly under her arms. Then she wiggles free, black hair pulled back and her dark blue eyes laughing at her. She is kissing the woman’s neck now. Cindy’s face arches back with delight as the kisses dance across her flesh lips brushing feathers. Yulia moves slowly her breasts, kissing along the silky border of the black lacy bra. Then she is cupping the enclosed nipple in her mouth, sucking it hard through the embroidered fabric. She takes her time to trail her lips over the smooth, velvety skin there.
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