Pink Butterfly (21 page)

“Department policy, all showers must be supervised.”

“Why are you naked?”

“I don’t want my uniform to get wet,” the deputy replied.

Alicia stood dumbfounded looking at this woman standing naked, wearing sunglasses and holding a bottle of body wash.

“I also have to do a body check,” the deputy replied.

“Shouldn’t there be another officer present? A witness?”

“I’m the only deputy on this shift.”

“What happens if you get a call? I mean if you’re the only deputy on shift, who’s watching the county?”

“Ma’am, I’m not here to answer your questions, I’m here to do a body check, now please turn and face the wall.”

Alicia did as the deputy commanded and turned to the wall getting a face full of shower water.

“Bend over.”

Alicia did as told and bent over. She felt a hand begin to massage her between the legs and enter her vagina. “What the fuck!” she said and stood upright.

“We have to check the vagina, it’s a common place to hide contraband.”

“Why are you feeling me up at the same time?”

“It’s procedure, in the manual.”

“I’d like to see this manual,” Alicia barked back.

“Assume the position,” the deputy snapped back with a high pitched authoritative tone.

Alicia turned back around and bent over allowing the deputy to shove two fingers deep inside her vagina. Digging around like she was looking for lost keys, the deputy tugged and rolled her fingers around until Alicia screamed in pain.

“What the hell!” Alicia yelled. “I’m not hiding a truck in there, don’t dig so hard!”

The deputy continued to roll her fingers around and then slide them in and out with a rhythm.

“You’re not doing what I think you’re doing,” Alicia said.

The deputy put her other hand on Alicia’s back and moved in closer under the shower getting wet rubbing her hip against Alicia’s smooth round ass.

“Did you find anything?” Alicia asked.

The deputy began to make moaning sounds and reached down and grabbed one of Alicia’s breasts as she continued to finger bang.

“Why are you grabbing my tit?”

“Procedure,” the deputy replied grinding her crotch into Alicia’s hip.

For the next ten minutes, the deputy groped, fingered and grinded Alicia in the shower in the name of procedure.

Alicia’s back began to get sore. “I need to stand up, my back is killing me.”

“Maybe you should sit down for a while,” the deputy replied pointing to the cement floor covered with hot steamy water.

Alicia complied but before she could get all the way to the floor the deputy laid down on her back below Alicia like she was doing an ass inspection. “Now what are you doing?” Alicia asked.

“I’m going to perform an oral examination. I’ve been trained to detect drugs by taste.”

“You think I have drugs in my pussy?”

“I’m not making a judgment, I’m performing an assessment, now, please sit on my face.”

Alicia lowered herself and centered her pussy over the deputy’s mouth and let her lick her crotch like a carnival lollipop. “How long will this take?” Alicia asked.

“About thirty minutes,” the deputy replied pulling her tongue free. “The procedure works best if you do the same to me while I do this to you.”

“Ok,” Alicia said, leaned over and buried her face into the hairy crotch of the female deputy. “Why don’t you shave? I mean, you shave your head but your crotch looks like a dead raccoon.”

“If you want I can get a razor and you can shave it for me,” the deputy replied.

“No, I don’t want to spend all day shaving your coochie. With that said, Alicia spread the deputy’s pussy lips apart and began to grind her tongue all around in a circular fashion. Removing her face from the deputy’s crotch, Alicia made a sour face and asked, “Are they supposed to taste like that?”

“Like what?”

“Moldy bread, or rancid taco meat.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it’s supposed to taste like. That means I don’t do drugs, now get back down there while I process your test.”

With a frown face, Alicia again put her tongue in the deputy’s pussy and began to lick and grind. As soon as the shower water washed away all the stank, she found that licking the deputy was actually kind of fun. Except for the occasional pubic hair between her teeth.

An hour later Alicia was led to the interrogation room where she met up with detective Mark Babineaux. Alicia was dressed in jail house orange and her hair was a mess. The detective was waiting with a legal pad and pen. “Miss Campbell,” the detective said. “I know you’ve been read your rights, but since this is being recorded, let me read them for you again. You have the right to remain silent, you have the right to an attorney; anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand these rights as they have been explained to you?”

“Yes,” Alicia said sitting next to a small white table across from the detective.

“Miss Campbell, the reason why you are here is because your fingerprints matched the fingerprints on file from a 1974 robbery and murder case involving a gas station attendant in Jackson County.”

“1974? I wasn’t even born then,” Alicia snapped back.

The detective looked over his glasses at Alicia and wrote down some notes on his legal pad. “What is your date of birth?” he asked.

“June 12th, 1976”

“How old are you Miss Campbell?”

“Nineteen.”

“I see,” the detective said presenting a manila file folder to Alicia. “Take a look at these.”

Alicia took the file folder and pulled out two black and white photos. Both were of a girl that looked exactly like she did standing behind a gas station counter with a gun.

“Can you explain these pictures?” the detective asked.

Alicia swallowed hard and began to sweat. “No, I have no idea who this is.”

“This picture was taken in 1974 during the robbery I mentioned, and from what I can see, it looks like you holding the gun.”

“Do I look like I’m the right age to be in this picture?” Alicia asked. “If that were me, I’d be in my forties by now.”

“Does seem to be sort of a paradox,” the detective replied.

“So that can’t be me,” she said folding her arms and failing to make good eye contact.

“Have you ever gone by the name of Gina Gardner?”

“No, who is that?”

“Gina Gardner is the name of the woman in the picture. She and her mother both disappeared soon after this robbery and murder took place. No one has seen anything of either of them in over twenty years.”

“Am I under arrest?” Alicia asked.

“Yes.”

“Based on what? An old picture and a set of prints that you probably faked?”

“Based on the prints yes, and no I didn’t fake them.”

“I’d like to see how you plan to prosecute me, everyone’s going to think you’re nuts.”

“Really?” the detective said sarcastically. “Tell me a little about yourself, where are you from?”

Alicia panicked and sweated harder.

“Where did you go to high school?” he asked.

Again Alicia kept her mouth shut.

“Where were you a year ago at this time?”

“I’m done talking, if you’re going to arrest me, do it.”

“Fine, this line of questioning is finished. I’ll have the jailer take you back to your cell. You will see the judge tomorrow to see if you can post bail. I doubt it, but you can try.”

The next day, Jeff Delgado sat down at a table with Father O’ Shea (Laurie Delgado’s ghost) to have a conversation. It was four in the afternoon at the Pink Butterfly and tonight was going to be another busy night. Too busy for a priest to be hanging around.

Jeff took a sip of his diet soda and let out a little burp. “Laurie, you’ve got to go. I can’t have a priest hanging around a strip club, it’s bad for business.”

Laurie, (in the priest’s body) replied, “Tough shit, should have thought about that before you left me to suffocate in your trunk eighteen months ago.”

“You do realize Father O’ Shea has a parish and a church to run. You can’t hijack his body forever.”

“I thought about that.”

“And?”

“I can body hop till I find some loser nobody will miss.”

“I don’t see that working out so well,” Jeff replied with a frown. “Unless you’re planning on taking that body somewhere else, I don’t care as long as you don’t stay here.”

“If I were in the body of a customer, who would give a shit where I stayed?”

“Is there some reason why you want to stay here? Is it because your body is still in my trunk?” I can drive down to the cemetery and toss it out in the ditch, it’s probably pretty dried up by now.”

“It’s because I wasn’t given a proper funeral. Nobody came to see me off, all I know is your trunk.”

“So if I give you a proper funeral will you leave?”

“No, I don’t know where to go, I missed that window of opportunity eighteen months ago. If there was a light to go into, I missed it.”

Jeff pondered for a moment about what Laurie had just said. “So what you need is someone to guide you to the light, like that fat woman in that Poltergeist movie?”

“Yeah, I suppose.”

“You would think that a priest could do that,” Jeff said looking at the face of Father O’Shea. “I don’t suppose you’d let me talk to the priest for a second and get some advice would you?”

“I think if I did that I’d lose control of his body so I’d rather not. Maybe you can call the Pope or something.”

“The Pope or something?”

“Or go to one of those stores that sells cigarettes and black light posters, there’s always some sort of witch or medium hanging around those places.”

“I think you’re onto something, would you be willing to go with me to one of these places to find someone?”

“Sure,” Laurie replied.

“Do you know the name of any of these stores?” Jeff asked.

“No, but I know where there is one, in the mini mall on main street between the music store and store that does women’s nails. They have a poster in the window of a marijuana leaf and a blinking sign that says “open.”

“Why don’t I call first before we drive all the way down there? For all you know it’s run by some nice old couple that likes an occasional joint now and then.”

“I told you I don’t know the name of the place.”

“I’ll Google it on my smart phone, gimme a second.” With that said, Jeff poked at his smart phone until a listing came up. He poked another time and the phone began to dial.

“Hello?” a man’s voice said across the phone. “Jim’s Smoke shop, how can I help you?”

“Uh, Jim?”

“No, this is Jim’s brother Ed.”

“Oh, ok, Ed, I have an unusual question for you. Is there anyone at your shop, a clerk or a customer who is into the occult? Like a medium or a witch?”

Ed burst out laughing. “It would be harder to find someone who isn’t! What do you need one for?”

“I’m looking for someone who can help a spirit go to the light.”

“Like in that Poltergeist movie?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Hold on a second,” Ed said and the phone went to mumbling for a while Ed spoke to people from his store. More mumbling. “Yeah, I got someone, and she said she’d do it for free.”

“Awesome!” Jeff said with a smile. “Can you ask her when she’s available?”

The phone went quiet again as Ed talked to the customer. “She says she’s free tonight, Monday all day and Tuesday till three in the afternoon.”

“Ask her if she’ll drive over to the Pink Butterfly now, I’ll pay her a hundred bucks if she gets the job done fast.”

Twenty minutes later, Hilda Kozas sat at the table with Jeff and Laurie. She was wearing a smelly dress that didn’t cover her hairy legs and a set of hose that clumped down around her ankles. She smelled like smoke and had a lazy eye that looked off to the side. “Who needs to go into the light?” she asked the two men at the table.

“He does,” they both said pointing at each other.

“I called you,” Jeff said. “This priest is currently being possessed by the spirit of my late ex-wife Laurie Delgado. She said she needed some assistance finding her way to the other side. Right Laurie?”

“Yes,” she said hanging her head in shame.

“I see, I can do that for you, no problem.”

“Great, what do we need to do?” Jeff asked.

“It’s simple, we have to engage in a fiddle playing contest, the loser must move on into the light.”

“I hope you didn’t get that from a Charlie Daniels song, because if you did, I don’t think this is going anywhere.”

Hilda pulled a fiddle from her oversized bag and laid it and a bow upon the table. “I’m not kidding.”

“I have no idea how to play the fiddle,” Laurie stated. “This is bullshit.”

“You give up? Fine, go to the light, now!” Hilda barked.

“What light? What are you talking about? Jeff, this woman is nuts!”

“Wait for it!” Hilda said with her eyes closed.

“Holy shit I see it,” Laurie said looking up at the ceiling.

Jeff looked up to where Laurie was looking and only saw a water stain on the tile. “What do you see?” Jeff asked.

“I see a light, it’s beautiful, like Magnum PI oiled up with grease on a bun.”

“What’s with all the pop culture references all of a sudden? Poltergeist, Charlie Daniels and Magnum PI?”

“I want to go into the light!” Laurie said holding up her hands.

“Can she do that now?” Jeff asked Hilda.

“Sure, go for it.”

“What about the priest’s body?”

“It should be fine,” Hilda replied.

“Are you sure? Maybe that light will suck his spirit up with hers?”

“I don’t think it’s a holy vacuum cleaner,” Hilda replied. “But you may have a point. He would be an innocent victim here.” Hilda scratched the hair on her chin and thought for a second. “Laurie, can you wait a second before you go into the light. I need to check on something first.”

Laurie was caught up in the moment and his concentration was stuck on the light no one else could see.

“I think it’s too late,” Hilda said. “She’s too far gone.”

“What if I punch her in the face? Get her attention?”

“Why is everything end with punching these days? You think punching is the answer to everything.”