December 8th- Lies and Other Crimes Part Two by DPPatricks

Click here to read Part 1

As soon as they crawled into bed, Pam’s eager fingers found Dave’s cock. “What’s this, baby? Bad ol’ rehearsal take all the lead out of your pencil?”

Dave carefully removed her hand. “You’re probably not going to believe me but I’ve got to use the tired old female complaint.”

“What?” She punched him in the side, hard. “You’ve got cramps?”

The nasty tone of her voice reinforced his determination not to give in to her manipulations. “Headache.”

“Take some aspirin!” She tried to crawl on top of him.

He slid out from under her and turned on his side, away from her. “Not tonight, Pam. I mean it.”

She hit him several times on the back and shoulder with her fist. “You’re my studly husband! When I want you, it’s your marital duty to put your cock in me and screw my brains out!” She sat up and stared at him. “What’s wrong with you? No man has ever turned me down. Ever!” She flounced out of bed and stormed into the kitchen, naked and fuming.

Dave figured he’d pay for that, sooner or later, but he simply couldn’t force himself to participate in what seemed more and more like twisted games. He sighed and tried to calm his mind into sleep. It was a long time coming. If she came back to bed, he never felt it.

Ken did his best to satisfy Marcie’s needs orally but suspected she faked her orgasm. He’d never even gotten hard, in spite of her practiced hands.

“What’s the matter, honey? You’ve been so distant lately. Is it something I’ve done?”

He sat up on the edge of the bed, his back to her. “No, sweetheart, of course not.”

She crouched behind him, her arms around his neck, her hands caressing his chest. “What is it, then? Don’t you still want to marry me?”

He turned, leaned against the headboard, and settled her in his arms. “Sure I do, Marcie. But I seem to be having a lot of trouble convincing my mind to accept that I’ll never remember anything. It’s getting worse instead of better.”

“Doc Morris said –”

“I know what he said,” Ken interrupted, angry with himself for not being able to explain things to her. “I know what everyone says. But hearing something and accepting it are two entirely different things. I’m just going around in circles. Everyone’s been kind and understanding, explaining things when I screw up, never sounding angry or impatient.”

“It’ll get better, honey.”

“I’m not sure it will! I want so badly to remember, Marcie… I don’t know if I can live with myself if I don’t.”

She sat up and stared at him. “What do you mean? You wouldn’t do anything… drastic. Would you?”

“Like kill myself?” She didn’t answer, which was answer enough. He shook his head. “No. I’d never do that. But… I might want to go away for a while. Find a doctor somewhere… get another opinion. Find someone who knows what the hell is going on with my head!”

She put her arms around him again and drew him down. “Give it more time, Ken. Please? I know it sounds terribly uncaring of me but I’m sure things will get better…. Soon. Just give it a while longer. Okay?”

With no immediate choice, Ken slipped his arms around her. “Sure, hon. I’ll wait.” He kissed her temple. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Go to sleep.”

Pam was driving too fast and a bit recklessly, as she always did. Marcie tried not to be concerned, since all the tickets Pam ever got were quickly fixed by her father. Still, it made Marcie nervous and she could tell that Pam knew it by the tone in her friend’s voice when she broke the long silence.

“You’re awfully quiet, Ms. Thompson.” Pam took her eyes off the road for much longer than Marcie was happy with, making her even more anxious. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet, girl. We’ve all gone too far to have anyone, especially you, turning back now.”

Marcie was surprised that Pam had read her so well and attempted to cover her growing apprehension. “I’m not turning back. I just…”

Pam’s voice dripped sarcasm. “You’re just what?”

“Concerned, that’s all.” Marcie knew it sounded lame but it was the best she could do. She’d fallen in love with Ken Hutchinson and had no earthly idea what to do about it. She hadn’t known anything about the man when the plan was being formulated, and had gone along with things because she’d always gone along with her father’s wishes. Pam had been so eager to play her own part, she’d convinced Marcie everything would be fun!

But Marcie was no longer feeling anything but confusion and anxiety: what everyone was doing was wrong, and she didn’t know how much longer she could keep up the pretense.

“Well,” Pam snarled, “get over it and smarten up! It’s your job to keep your cop dosed up and forgetful. I’m doing my part with his buddy, and we both have to make sure they don’t remember anything! Until my father and yours say different.”

Marcie couldn’t help but mentally withdraw into herself. Pam was always the strong one, the bossy one, the leader of the pack. Marcie would end up doing whatever Pam said; even though she knew the situation just wasn’t right!

Pam took a hand off the wheel and waved it cheerfully. “Wait ‘til you’re married to him, sweetie. Things’ll be different then. You’ll see.”

“How?”

Pam laughed and it sounded nasty. “You’ll have complete control then. Just like you did with Jeff. As for my… husband?” She grinned and, this time, Marcie knew there was evil behind the smile. “He’s sweet and doesn’t have a clue. I get away with anything I want. It’s not the challenge I thought it’d be when our daddies suggested it…. I wonder what Dave and Ken would do if they ever found out?”

Marcie wondered the same thing. And even though she knew she’d be held accountable, an idea began to take shape. Once Ken knew what had happened to him, of course, he might never return her feelings, but at least she could save his life! Anything could happen after that; love had to be worth something, didn’t it?

At the shooting range, Dave surveyed the selection of handguns available to visitors. “Let him try one like mine, Rudy.”

The attendant pulled a Beretta out of the case and handed it to Ken. The grip disappeared into the blond’s large hand and it didn’t appear to feel comfortable to him. Carefully taking the weapon, Dave handed it back to Rudy. “Don’t think so.” He scanned the glass-topped cabinet. “How about the Python? That oughta fit his paw.”

When Rudy placed the gun in Ken’s hand, Dave saw the almost immediate sureness with which Ken passed the weapon from hand to hand, opened the cylinder to make sure it wasn’t loaded, closed it again, and sighted out the window to the range behind the building.

“Yep,” Dave said to Rudy, “that’s a winner.”

Rudy passed a box of ammunition to each of them, as well as ear protectors and a sheaf of paper targets. Dave signed the requisite forms, then turned to Ken and opened the side door for him, as Rudy ducked into the small office.

Dave followed the blond outside where they took places, side by side, behind the partitioned counter. Dave noticed that Ken never hesitated as he drew his backboard from its slot fifty feet away, attached the first target to it, and returned it to its place against the earthen berm. Hmmmmm, he’s done all this before, he thought.

Ken sent him a surprised look. “Yes, I think I have.”

Dave stepped back a pace, startled. “Did you just read my mind?”

Ken’s expression was as shocked as Dave felt. “I must have. You think I’ve done this before.”

Shaking his head, Dave stepped to the line. “I suppose it makes sense that’s what I’d be thinking but… yeah.”

Ken shrugged. “I’ll say it again. Weird.”

“And I’ll say it again, too. I agree.” Dave moved into his own section and put up his first target. They donned ear protection at the same time and Dave noticed that Ken had no difficulty loading the Magnum. Ken’s first shot was slightly to the right of center in the target’s chest, but the following ones created a hole in the paper visible from the firing line. Dave smiled as the blond reloaded. “You shoot, all right.”

Ken looked down at the weapon in his hand before staring at Dave. “So it would seem.”

“Yes, sir.” Rudy cupped his hand around the mouthpiece of the phone, even though there was no one else in the room, and stared out the small window toward the two men standing at the firing line. “They’re out there now. And Hutchinson’s just put six almost into the bull’s eye. He sure can handle that hog leg I gave him…. The Python…. No, sir. I can’t hear what they’re sayin’, but they ain’t arguin’!… Yes, sir, I’ll let you know if they come back.”

That night, when Ken and Marcie decided to bowl a few games, he wasn’t really surprised to find Dave and Pam already there, getting their shoes and score pages. A nagging thought even had him wondering if people weren’t conspiring to bring him and Dave into contact with each other. Everyone in the place seemed to be paying more attention to them than to their own efforts to knock pins down.

“Let’s get an alley together,” Pam suggested.

“Sure, why not?” Ken agreed. “It’s always more fun with four.” He shared a look of momentary uncertainty with Dave. “I think.”

Dave made a visible effort to shake off whatever concerns his lack of memory had generated and, taking Pam’s hand, headed toward the lanes. “We’ll grab one. Get your shoes!”

The evening passed in hilarity that seemed to Ken only slightly forced on the parts of all four participants, and beer. Conversation went from the banal: politics, to the ridiculous: the current crop of dreadful offerings on television. Especially considering that reception was very limited in their mountain community.

“I’m watching PBS, for God’s sake, ‘cause there’s nothing on ABC!” Pam griped.

Ken laughed along with the others, but he felt as if Pam hadn’t said it for the humor factor — she’d been serious.

When they got home, Marcie was extremely solicitous and Ken felt badly about being unable to respond to her kindnesses.

“You really aren’t into this tonight, are you?”

“Sorry, hon.” And he was. “Can we just snuggle? Please?”

“Of course. I thought the fun we had with Dave and Pam might have relaxed you.” She cuddled against his chest.

“Maybe next time.” He held her until she finally went to sleep but didn’t succeed in finding sleep himself until nearly dawn.

When the bowling alley closed, Dave and Pam said goodnight to Ken and Marcie and went home. Dave knew he wasn’t in the mood for the lurid sexual games that had been his wife’s standard late night entertainment recently so, once they were naked, he slouched on top of his clothes in the chair, turning what he hoped was a lascivious gaze on her. “Let’s do something different tonight, Pam. You’ve got all those… accessories, but I can’t remember seeing you use them. Why don’t you show me what you do when I’m on duty?”

The request most definitely appealed to her but her response sounded skeptical. “You sure, baby? You know I love my fake cocks but yours is always the one I really want.”

“Let’s try it this way for tonight, Pam. If giving myself a hand-job while you get yourself off doesn’t satisfy us both, we’ll go back to the usual way.”

“I’m not sure I like that phrase, ‘the usual way,’ lover. But we’ll see.” She opened the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out one toy after another.

Dave tried to swallow his revulsion because he was married to this female! Why was he having such a reaction to what must have been their normal relationship? No, he decided, as she chose a huge rubber model, nothing about his and Pam’s interactions felt ‘normal’ to him.

“Mmmmmmmmmmm.” She licked the dildo and inserted the head into her vagina. “Get started, sweetie, I’m way ahead of you.”

Dave watched her, even though his eyes wanted to be anywhere else, while he stroked himself. Something about this whole scene wasn’t right!

She moaned and writhed, either doing an excellent job of acting or else truly enjoying herself. Dave had to force his disinterested organ to participate.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Dave said as he climbed out of his patrol car the following day and greeted Ken Foley, who was standing just outside the service bay of Ed’s Garage. Dave stuck out his hand and Ken gripped it.

Ed, the owner and sole mechanic of the only automotive maintenance and repair facility in town, backed out from under the hood of what Dave knew was Mr. Thompson’s Lincoln Town Car. “Be with you in a few minutes, Deputy. Gotta finish up with the boss’s ride first.”

“No hurry, Ed. The sheriff just said get it done, he didn’t say there was a time limit.” He smiled, to allay Ed’s apparent nerves. “And the town’s quiet today.”

The mechanic nodded and ducked under the hood again.

Dave gestured to the bench outside the shop’s office and headed in that direction. Ken followed him. When they were seated, Dave hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I think there’s probably coffee inside.”

Ken shook his head. “No, thanks. I sampled some last week when I brought Marcie’s Volvo in for a brake job.… I’ll pass.”

“Smart man.” Feeling, somehow, more at ease than he had for days, Dave leaned back against the wall. “So… when do you want to go bowling again? Or do some more shooting?”

Ken shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not really comfortable with my job yet and Marcie’s got me doing stuff for the pageant…” He appeared to be unhappy with himself and Dave felt, instinctively, that such feelings should be unusual. “And then there’s all the wedding plans Marcie’s got me involved with.” He pulled a confused face. “As if I’d know anything about such things.”

“Never been married before?” Dave hunched a shoulder when he realized he’d asked a question Ken couldn’t answer.

Instead of stating the obvious, though, Ken’s expression turned vacant and he sighed deeply.

“Forget I asked.” Without knowing why he did it, Dave reached over and patted Ken’s forearm. The contact seemed to calm them both. After a few quiet minutes, Dave began to feel antsy again, took his hand back, and stood up. “Ed’s got a soda machine… want a Coke?”

The blond shook his head. “Is there Sprite?” He dug in his pocket and handed Dave two quarters.

Dave thought he heard footsteps from inside but knew he must be imaging things, since there was no one around except Ed, and he was finishing up Thompson’s Lincoln. Taking the coins, he headed for the door. “I’ll see. Second choice?”

“Seven Up.”

“You got it!”

After both cars had been serviced and his customers were gone, Ed went into the office and made a call. “Ed here, Mr. Thompson. They came in, just like you and the sheriff said they would…. Sat out front…. Yes, sir, I could hear every word but they didn’t sound like they were gettin’ suspicious or nothin’… Just sat there in the sun and talked about the wedding and the pageant… shit like that…. Oh, Starsky came in and got a couple of sodas but I made sure he didn’t see me…. No, sir, I swear. I’d tell ya if they did. We’re all in this together, right? … Yes, sir, I’ll keep my eyes peeled.”

CHAPTER THREE

Out of the corner of her eye, Marcie watched Ken finish drying the last dish and put it away in the cupboard. Knowing Dave was due to show up any minute in response to her request that afternoon, she rinsed her hands, pulled the drain plug out of the sink, and turned to face him. “Honey…”

Ken hung his towel on the rack. With even more uncertainty than she’d felt from him lately, he leaned against the counter, attempting to appear unworried. “What is it, sweetheart?”

Picking up a second towel, Marcie dried her hands. “What did you and the deputy talk about at Ed’s Garage today?”

Ken was surprised and didn’t try to cover it. “How did you know I saw him there?”

She went to him, slipped her arms around his waist, and hugged him. “Everyone in town knows every single thing the two of you do.”

He pushed her back and looked in her eyes. “What are you talking about, Marcie? Why would anybody care?”

She took his hand and led him to the table, where she sat and waited for him to do the same. She didn’t let go of his hand as he did and, after a deep breath, she looked squarely into his eyes. “It was a set up. My dad and the sheriff wanted to find out what you’d say to each other when no one else was around. So they arranged to have the two of you bring the cars to the garage at the same time. Ed was listening to everything you said.”

“No, he wasn’t. He was in the bay, changing the oil in both cars. Dave and I were out front on the bench. He couldn’t have heard us.”

She loved him so much she ignored his naiveté. “Jake Ramsey, Ed’s nephew, came in the back way and did the work. Ed was in the office right behind you, eavesdropping through the open door.”

Ken couldn’t hide his confusion. “Why?”

Okay, she thought, show time. “Your name isn’t Ken Foley.”

Whatever he’d expected, Marcie could tell it wasn’t that. “What did you say?”

After another ragged breath, she repeated the statement. She could see he was trying to make sense of her words and quickly followed them with, “And his isn’t Dave Lombard.”

Ken sat forward and took her other hand. “I think you’d better start at the beginning.”

At that moment, footsteps mounted the back porch stairs and there was a knock on the door. Marcie glanced at her watch, committed to this course of action and not allowing herself to deviate from it. She started to get up.

Ken held onto her hands, keeping her in place, while he stood. “Expecting anyone?” There was a harshness in his voice she’d never heard before. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Opening the door, Ken was clearly surprised, and pleased, to see Dave. “What in the world are you doing coming to the back door? Where’s your car?”

Dave stepped inside and closed the door. The look on his face said he wasn’t very happy. “It’s parked at the river overlook. Your fiancé asked me to come but told me not to let anyone see me.”

Marcie got up and poured another cup of coffee, placing it at the end of the kitchen table, between hers and Ken’s. “Sit down, please, Dave…. Ken.”

Dave didn’t move; he stared warily at Ken. “Your soon-to-be-wife made it a point to catch me as I was driving down the alley behind the general store, on my usual patrol route late this afternoon. She was looking around as if to make sure no one saw us. She asked me not to leave my car anywhere near the house, and to come to the back door.”

Marcie sat down in her customary chair. Committed or not, she hadn’t thought past this moment and, now that they were both here, she wasn’t sure how to begin.

Ken, who had to be feeling the wary vibes surging off his friend, which plainly heightened his own tension, took his seat.

Dave sat at the place indicated by the third cup. “What’s goin’ on, Ms. Thompson?”

Marcie drank some coffee, looked at each of them, then back down at her cup. “Your names aren’t Foley and Lombard.”

Marcie felt enough electricity passing between the men to light all of Thompsonville. Working up her courage, she met their questioning gazes and continued. “They’re Ken Hutchinson and Dave Starsky.”

Silence reigned in the small kitchen for what Marcie felt might have been hours, days, weeks… eons, but was probably only a few seconds. Finally, Ken and Dave opened their mouths at the same time.

“Starsk…” and “Hutch…” quietly overlapped.

Marcie could see the veils began to lift from Ken’s mind but, other than the familiarity of the names, it was obvious he had no more idea about what was happening than Dave appeared to have. Ken turned to Marcie. “I’ll repeat his question. What’s going on?”

Marcie knew she was already in for a penny, so she might as well be in for a pound. “My father and the sheriff had you kidnapped in Bay City and brought here.”

Knowledge lit Ken’s face and seemed to drive out uncertainty. “We don’t have amnesia.”

She shook her head. “No. Your memories have been drugged over.”

“Will we get them back?” Dave’s eyes showed how desperately he wanted that to happen.

Marcie shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s a completely experimental compound Doc Morris has come up with and even he doesn’t know.”

“How are they delivering it?” Ken asked. Long-suppressed ideas could be seen crowding into his mind.

“Pam and I put it in your morning coffee,” Marcie admitted. As Ken glanced at his cup, she put her hand over his. “No! This pot’s just coffee.” She didn’t want to be coy, this was too important, so she put unvarnished truth into her voice. “I promise, I’ll never give it to you again.”

Ken’s mental gears were almost audibly grinding when he looked at Dave. “We’re partners, Starsk. Remember?”

Dave looked at Ken with the first genuinely open expression Marcie had ever seen on his face. “Yeah. Once she…” he glanced at Marcie, “said the names, the lid that’s been on my memory began cracking and it’s all coming back. We’re detectives with the BCPD.”

“Dobey. Huggy…” Ken drilled a question at Marcie. “Have we been here longer than the two months I remember?”

She was equal parts contrite and ashamed. “No. It’s been just eight weeks.”

Ken’s shoulders slumped; the compassion he silently sent his partner was nearly palpable. “Your mom hasn’t heard from you in all that time. What’s she going to think?”

Dave covered Ken’s hand with his own, knuckles whitening from the strength of the grip. “I’ll bet Dobey and Huggy have been tearing the city apart.”

Sorrow overlaid Ken’s next words. “They probably think we’re dead.”

Now, finally, Marcie knew what she had to do. She put her cup down. “You have to leave. Tonight! If you’re here when my father and Sheriff Wharton find out I told you, they’ll kill you!”

Dave sat back, grimness turning his face to granite. “No. We’re staying.”

Marcie was near panic; this wasn’t what she expected at all. “You can’t! You have to get out of here!”

“We’re cops, Ms. Thompson,” Ken said, and she knew he was tightly controlling the anger he must be feeling. “Starsky and I are the victims of some major crimes and we’re not leaving until we’ve gotten to the bottom of it, and taken those responsible into custody.”

“You don’t understand!” Marcie ran a hand through her hair, then clasped both together on the table. “Every single person in this town is involved!”

Ken’s and Dave’s surprised expressions were almost exact duplicates of each other. Ken looked at Marcie. “Start at the beginning.”

Dave gulped the rest of his coffee, got up and opened the refrigerator. Smiling, he looked over his shoulder at Ken. “Want a beer, partner?”

“Yes, please!” Ken accepted the uncapped bottle. Dave sat back down and opened his own while Ken focused on Marcie again. “We’re waiting, Ms. Thompson.”

She got up and paced. She was going to lose everything if she couldn’t make them understand, and then get the hell out of here! If Ken stayed alive, she could go to Bay City, make everything up to him. Help him forget all the stress and confusion of the past two months, and make him fall in love with her. For real, this time. Maybe.

She knew her voice was going to sound ragged but she couldn’t help it. “Do the names Darrel Wharton and Cliff Thompson mean anything?”

Pieces were visibly falling into place in Ken’s probably-still-muddled mind. “Yeah… they were selling tainted pharmaceuticals.”

Dave sent him an intense look. “We were investigating because some kids died.” He was obviously sorting through his own reviving memories. “Turned out Wharton and Thompson had a batch of rejected drug runs out of a warehouse in…” he stared at Ken. “Here.”

“They were contaminated,” Ken added.

Marcie sat down again and picked up her cup. “A strain of virus had gotten into the processing equipment and ruined several entire batches before my father discovered it.” She looked guiltily at each of them. “Nobody thought it would be too much of a problem — certainly nothing that would cause death — but dad ordered the runs disposed of anyway.”

“Well, yeah…” Dave muttered.

“What no one realized,” she continued, “was that Cliff and Darrel didn’t destroy them. They took it all and went down to Bay City.”

“Where they peddled it,” Ken finished. “And people died.”

She hunched her shoulders and shuddered. “Yes.”

“We caught them…” Ken said.

“And they were convicted,” Dave completed the thought. He glanced at Ken. “Do you remember how many years they got?”

Ken took a moment to sort through what had to be fuzzy memories. “Twenty to life. As I recall.”

Marcie nodded before she looked up, misery in her eyes. “My father and Sheriff Wharton didn’t care that their sons had broken the law, they vowed they’d make you both pay.”

“Their precious sons had committed murder!” Dave was undoubtedly trying to rein in his outrage. “A death resulting from the commission of a felony, such as selling tainted drugs, Ms. Thompson, is considered murder.”

Ken put a hand back on his partner’s arm and faced Marcie’s anguish. “Not intentionally, perhaps. But their actions caused three teenagers to die.”

She dropped her head onto her hands. “I know.”

Dave swallowed more beer before sitting back and getting his ‘game face’ back on. “Okay. Tell us everything, Ms. Thompson.”

Ken reinforced the demand. “And he does mean everything.”

To be continued…