Black Princess Mystery (24 page)

“I’ll give
it some thought,” Mrs. Green said, glancing at him.

“When did
you get home, Mr. Billings?” Tasheka asked.

“Ten
minutes ago, but Helen called me in Tampa about the terrible thing that
happened. What a shame.”

“Truly,”
returned Mrs. Green.

“It didn’t
happen far from here,” Tasheka said. “The murderer may have been right behind
your house, Mr. Billings.”

“I know.
But what’s really amazing is that I was packing the night it happened and I
came out here at nine to put my suitcases in the trunk. They say the murder
happened at nine-fifteen.” He nodded and pointed at the ground. “I was standing
right here as the killer prepared to do the horrible act.”

“That’s
spooky,” Tasheka offered. “Helen obviously didn’t notice anything out of the
ordinary.”

“Nothing.
She’s in bed and asleep by eight-thirty every night.”

“But at
least Mrs. Billings had you to watch out for her,” Tasheka said, “and Marissa
had Matt.” She laughed. “I knew there was a reason we keep you big, strong men
around.”

“Matt
wasn’t home that night,” Mr. Billings noted with a chuckle. “Marissa was home
alone.”

“Marissa
was home alone?” Tasheka asked, remembering how she and Henrietta had assured
her that they were all playing cards at Matt’s. “Are you sure, Mr. Billings?”

“Yes, I’m
sure. Why?”

“It’s just
creepy to think she was all by herself,” Tasheka said, knitting her brows. “But
maybe Matt was home and you just didn’t notice him.”

“Tasheka,
I worked in security for thirty years. I notice everything. Matt left about
eight-thirty and didn’t come home until after eleven. I saw Marissa let him
in.”

“Oh,
okay,” Tasheka said, as if Mr. Billings had made an insignificant observation.

“Terrible
tragedy,” Mr. Billings said with a shake of the head. “Tim Murphy was a fine
man. He was always willing to lend a helping hand.”

“He helped
you with your beach house, didn’t he?” Mrs. Green casually mentioned.

Mr.
Billings smiled and nodded. “Yes, indeed. I was installing new windows in the
beach house in September and Tim gave me a hand.”

“I
remember,” Mrs. Green said. “He stayed the night, didn’t he?”

“He did.
We finished just before dark and rather than drive all the way back to
Lakeside, we just went for a swim and then listened to music well into the
night. He was very pleasant company and he even had a few drinks with me. He
loved my tequila sunrises.”

Mrs. Green
looked at her watch. “Well, we’d better get going. Good evening, Floyd.”

“Good
evening, Anna,” he returned with an engaging smile. “Good evening, Tasheka.”

Tasheka
and Mrs. Green quietly walked away into the night, but as soon as they were out
of sight, they turned to each other. “There goes Matt’s alibi,” Tasheka said.

“Henrietta’s,
too,” Mrs. Green noted.

“Well,
Matt may not have been where he said he was, but that certainly doesn’t mean he
was committing the murder.”

“No, no.
That goes without saying.”

The mother
and daughter continued on and came to a gap in the trees where they could see
Dead Man’s Oak. The police were no longer there, but the area seemed to hold a
new and malevolent force. When the Green women returned home, they got ready
and then drove to the city. Tasheka let her mother off at a friend’s, said she
hoped her mother would enjoy the concert, and her mother noted that the friend
would drive her home in the morning. Then she drove to her condo, arriving just
before five.

It was a
lovely, large space with hardwood floors, a spacious kitchen and living room, a
huge bedroom with a queen-sized bed, a balcony that overlooked the waterfront,
and it contained all the amenities, including a posh couch and chairs, along
with beautiful antiques. She was watching television when her buzzer rang.

“Yes?” she
asked.

“It’s
Thorston.”

“Come up,”
she told him, buzzing open the lobby door. A couple minutes later he knocked
and she greeted him. He was holding a bouquet of flowers. “Well,” she said,
accepting them and breathing in their sweet aroma, “handsome
and
thoughtful. Come in, come in.”

“This is a
really nice place you have here,” he said, slipping off his shoes and looking
around.

“Can you
stay awhile?”

“I have a
couple hours.”

Tasheka
suddenly started kissing him, pressing herself to his hard body. He quickly
started kissing her back, rubbing his lips over hers with a fiery insistence,
his blood obviously boiling as hot as hers. She stepped back and pulled a piece
of paper with some writing on it out of her bra, holding it up.

“Do you
ever role play?” she whispered naughtily, staring into his eyes.

“I never
have, but I’m open to it.”

“I like it
hot,” Tasheka said. “It’s my nature. I need a man who can keep up with me.”

“I’ll do
it,” he replied, “or die trying.”

Tasheka
handed him the paper and walked into her bedroom, closing the door. Two minutes
later the door opened and Thorston walked in, closing the door behind him and
leaning his back against it. Tasheka was sitting on the bed. She looked up
bashfully and then turned away, staring at the floor.

“My name
is Bubba Forks,” he said, flashing his badge. “You’re in a whole heap of trouble,
Missie.”

“Please
let me go,” she pleaded. “I can’t go back to jail.”

“Well,
then, you shouldn’t have been speeding in my county, especially with two ounces
of weed in your trunk. I could send you away for a long time.”

“I’ll do
anything,” Tasheka said, standing up with an imploring look. “I can’t go back
to jail. I can’t.”

“Oh, yes
you can,” Thorston said, “but I’m a reasonable man. You’re still young and you
have your whole life ahead of you. We have some decisions to make, Missie.
First things first, though. I have to search you for contraband and weapons.”

“Yes,
sir.”

“Put your
hands up,” he said, “and lean against the wall. Spread your legs.”

“Yes,
sir,” Tasheka said, doing as he instructed.

Thorston
stood behind her and rubbed his hands through her hair, looked into her ears,
and had her open her mouth, also peering in with the thoroughness of a doctor.
He stood behind her and traced his hands all over her back, felt her armpits
and stomach, and then put both his hands on her breasts, squeezing them
lightly.

“Sir,” she
said, not looking back, “I am a lady. I am not used to such an examination.”

“It
doesn’t matter if you’re Miss Mississippi, I have to search you for my safety.
Criminals find the most ingenious ways to hide things." He undid the buttons
of her blouse and slipped it off her, leaving her wearing only a lacy red bra
on her upper body. He unsnapped it at the back.

“Sir!” she
said, tensing. “No man has ever seen my breasts.”

“Listen,
lady, I’m trying my best to help you avoid jail. Calm down.”

Though she
resisted, he pulled off her bra and tossed it on a chair. Thorston then reached
around and clasped both her breasts in his hands and started to gently squeeze
them. Tasheka squirmed left and right, but did not remove her hands from the
wall. Suddenly he slid his hand down her stomach and under the band of her
pants, working his fingers into her panties and to the top of her bush. Tasheka
jerked and hurried away, stopping about ten feet from him and covering her bare
breasts with her hands. She was breathing heavily and her face expressed
heightened emotion.

“What are
you doing, sir?” she cried.

“I’m an
officer of the law,” he said, “and I have to thoroughly search you. If I am
satisfied that you have no weapons and no more contraband, I may simply
confiscate your marijuana and let you go. It all depends on how cooperative you
are.”

“I can’t
go back to jail,” Tasheka urged.

He walked
up to her and slid his hand down the front of her pants again, this time
slipping his fingers over her hot, wet opening. He stroked up and down several
times, touched her clit, and pulled his hand out, the tips of his fingers
glistening with her juices. He slowly licked them and muttered with pleasure.

“Can I go
now?” Tasheka asked, still covering her breasts.

“Pull down
your pants,” Thorston said.

Tasheka
gasped.

“Do as I
say or I’m going to throw the book at you.”

Tasheka
paused for several seconds, stared at him, then with a groan of rebellion
pulled her pants down to her mid-thighs.

“Panties,
too,” he instructed.

“Sir!” she
objected.

“Panties,
too!” he ordered.

Again she
hesitated, but then she pulled her panties down to her mid-thighs and stood
awkwardly, looking off to the side. Thorston stepped up to her, rubbed his
hands over her naked breasts and behind, then knelt and pulled her pants and
panties downward in a sharp motion. She looked down to see them around her
ankles. She was just about to object, when he lifted her leg and pulled one
foot through, then the other. Tasheka was now naked except for a pair of ankle-high
pink socks. He took off her socks.

“I need to
do a strip search,” he said, ogling her nude body. “It’s the law.”

“You can
see I have nothing on my person,” Tasheka said, covering her pussy with both
hands, which had the unintended consequence of squeezing her breasts together
and making them look bigger, the dark black nipples now incredibly erect.

“Looks can
be deceiving,” he said, “and women have places where they can hide things. Get
on the bed and lie flat on your back.”

“Why?” she
asked, her voice cracking. “What are you going to do, Officer Bubba?”

“I’m going
to do my job. That’s what the good people of this county pay me to do and I
will not forsake my duties. On your back, lady.”

“Yes,
sir,” Tasheka said, sitting her wide, round butt on the bed and lying flat on
her back. “What do I have to do?”

“Spread
your legs wide and pull your knees up toward your shoulders.”

“Sir, that
is very unladylike.”

“It’s very
unladylike to be transporting contraband through my county, too, but I’m trying
to work with you.” He paused. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Georgia,”
Tasheka said.

“Georgia
what?”

“Georgia
Peach.”

“All
right, Georgia Peach, spread your legs and pull up your knees. If you don’t,
you’re going up for another stint in the big house.”

Tasheka
spread her legs and pulled her knees toward her shoulders, looking down and
seeing her pink opening slippery wet, the hairs all matted around her lips. She
felt hot and she could smell her own musk. Her heart was literally pounding.
Thorston dropped to his knees, put his face between her legs, and licked her
pussy.

“What are
you doing, Officer Bubba?” Tasheka exclaimed, but didn’t move.

“If you
were hiding anything in your muff, I could taste it. But I’m going to have to
do a thorough exam to make sure. Nothing gets past me.”

Thorston
licked her pussy and smacked his lips as if her pussy was the most delicious
thing he had ever tasted. He put his tongue inside her and moved it around,
several times penetrating her with it as though it was a cock. He spread her
lips, his eyes flashed, and then he began to concentrate on her clit, licking
it, sucking it, putting it into his mouth and pulling gently backward. Within a
minute it had grown to a previously unknown state of erection and Tasheka could
hardly believe how big it was. He flicked his tongue over it and Tasheka held
onto the blankets, feeling as if she might soon ascend to a mind-blowing
orgasm. He suddenly stood up, his handsome face glistening with her wetness,
and he rapidly took off his clothes.

“What are
you doing, Officer Bubba?” Tasheka called out in pretend alarm.

His thick,
eleven-inch cock was petrified into a wicked hard-on. He practically jumped up
on the bed, squatted down with his powerful legs and muscular ass flexing, then
put his hands on her head, lifted it slightly, and shoved his cock at her
mouth.

“Sir!” she
called out, pretending to be licking it against her will, “what are you doing?”

“It’s
necessary,” he stammered, sliding his huge cock into her mouth. “I have to use
my probe. It’s protocol.”

She
mumbled her objections but her words were unintelligible as she bobbed back and
forth on his pulsating prick. “This does not,” she said, breathing shallowly as
she pulled his cock out of her mouth and licked his balls, “seem like any
procedure,” she started jerking him, “that I have ever heard of.”

“You’re
not a cop, are you?” he said, shoving his dick back into her mouth and humping
her with lustful hunger.