Bicycle Shop Murder 44

It was Sunday, 1:20 PM. Greg Tenorly felt almost human again, after sleeping for twelve hours. It only took a couple of knocks to get a response.

“Just a minute.”

He had dreamed about her all night long. Cynthia opened the door. She looked even more beautiful than in his dreams.

“Come on in. I’m almost ready.”

The last time he had been in her room at the Holiday Inn, they were just about to begin their big adventure.

“Did you sleep okay?” said Greg.

“Like a rock. And I woke up starved. Where are we eat­ing?”

“Your choice.”

“I hope Dr. Huff understood about you missing church today.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he did. He knows I’ve had a rough week. We’ve had rough week. But it wasn’t all bad. I had a great time just being with you. You know, just talking and joking around. That part of it was fun.”

“Yeah, it was.” Cynthia seemed to be only half-listening, while finishing her eye makeup.

“And now I’m going to miss seeing you every day.”

Cynthia put down her makeup, and walked over to Greg. She stepped in close, and looked deeply into his eyes. By the time she spoke, his heart was pounding.

“You can still see me every day. If you want to.”

She leaned in closer, as her eyelids lowered. He leaned down, and gently touched his lips against hers, and realized he could never have prepared himself for the sensation that began to pulse through his entire body.

Instinctively, he draped his arms around her curvaceous body. Greg wondered if he was overstepping. Then he felt her hands sliding around to his back. Her mouth opened slightly. The tip of her tongue caressing his lips.

Cynthia still had a husband to bury. She didn’t know when she would be ready to start ‘officially’ dating again. But she did know who she would be dating. It would be the sweet, kind, loving, funny man she had gotten to know over the past week. His warm embrace felt like home.

**********

It was a perfect afternoon to spend on the lake—if you could stand the heat and humidity. And Marty could. He cut the engine, and his boat slowed to a standstill. What a great spot, he thought. And nobody else was around to disturb his joy of fishing.

He flipped open the cooler, dug to the very bottom, and pulled out an ice cold Budweiser. Here was a place where he could fish, and drink beer, and commune with God. But then he remembered he had a little business to take care of first.

He unzipped the duffle bag, and took out a pair gloves and put them on. Then he removed the gun and the suppressor from the bag. He carefully wiped them off with a rag one more time.

Then he lowered the two items into the water, and released them. With any luck, they would never be found. At least not in his lifetime.

“Buford, if you can hear me, wherever you are…” Marty took a sip from his beer. “…I wish I could say that your debt to society has been paid. But I’m afraid you’ve only paid one of your debts. But if the Good Lord would bring you back to life, I’d help you out with the rest of those debts.”

Marty took several more sips. “Really, Buford. I’d be more than happy to kill you over and over and over again. Whatever it took.”

Of course, Marty would only do this if God approved it. Because Marty had made a vow. And he would keep his vow.

This time.

THE END