Greenwood Detective

So I published a stony by this title on here under a different pen name 5 years ago. For some reason I felt guilty about it and deleted it and my old account. Part of the reason I'm back on Literotica is to republish this story, and also to rewrite it.

This story attempts to be a fully fledged story, with developed characters, compelling desires, and sexual encounters that either get you Wet as Niagra Falls or Hard as rhe Rock of Gibraltar. I hope you get off as many times to reading this that I did to writing it and please give me lots of feedback. If it's good enough, maybe I'll publish it someday.

Thanks for reading, and welcum to Greenwood

Prologue

Greenwood After Dark

Greenwood slept beneath a dark, midnight sky. The midwestern stars, not dimmed or jaded by coastal city lights, twinkled merrily across the black velvet roof of the world. June bugs and cicadas were beginning to quiet their songs and even the lightning bugs were shutting off their lamps for the night.

As the world around Greenwood sunk into the peace of nocturnal slumber, the stoplights in town began to dully blink yellow, as if they too grew weary and wished to sleep. A cool fog rolled in from the river on the east side of town, past the Masonic temple and over the cobblestones of Olde Towne, and with the fog came the woman.

The tapping of her high heeled boots echoed like the seconds of eternity's clock counting down as she made her way up Main street towards town hall as the Masonic Temple's bells chimed midnight. Chains swung from her torn jean shorts and clinked like an orchestra of damned souls marching their way to hell. Her image slipped and slithered across shopfront windows slick with evening dew, undulating like an emerald serpent beneath the cold moon.

Aside from the lonely yellow light blinking on and off in a sleepy rhythm at Main and Green, a single lamp shone from the mayor's office that evening.

Julia Burgh sat at her desk going over once again the proposal for a town pool. A handsome woman of middling years with golden hair slowly turning to silver, she wore a skirt suit, with the jacket discarded over the back of her chair. She looked over her bill with eyes green as the hills from behind glasses her age now required her to wear.

The detractors were old city fathers and mothers who claimed the ponds and streams in the Greenwood and West Hills were good enough for older generations of swimmers and so they must be good enough for the newer ones too. The proponents of the bill were, in large part, parents who wanted a safe place for their children to cool off in the hot summer days where they or a lifeguard or someone else's parents might keep an eye on them.

Unfortunately for the young parents, the older folks held all the money. However, Julia thought she had come up with a pretty good solution, a middle ground that both parties could agree to.

The founders association and the masonic temple, to which many of the town's older and wealthier population possessed membership, had been wanting the city park reinvigorated and a monument built to the founders there. By adding a small water park designed for children, Julia could please both the old and young crowd at once.

A knock sounded at her office door. Julia looked up from the draft of her city park bill and removed her glasses.

"Jackie, is that you? Come on in," she called, rubbing her sore eyes. Pressing the palms against her eyelids she saw stars erupt behind them.

"I hope you brought coffee," she said, hearing the door click shut. "I'm going to need it if we're going to finish this...you're not Jacquelyn!"

"No," hissed the stranger, "and I did not bring coffee."

"Who are you," asked Julia, "what do you want?"

"I want the stones, daughter of Burgh," hissed the woman. Julia opened her mouth to argue but trailed off as her meadow green eyes locked with the slotted, poisonous yellow orbs of the woman standing before her. Julia tried to look away, sweat beading on the skin around her panicking eyes, but she could not. The strange woman in torn jean shorts and leather jacket lifted a finger and Julia slowly, struggling with all her might, rose from her seat. The strange woman crossed the office slowly, chains dangling from her bare waist and creating damning music. She drew close to Julia, intimately close. A long, sinuous tongue unrolled from behind the woman's dark blue lips and tasted the fear sweat on Julia's neck.

"Mmm, yesssss," hissed the woman, "you are going to taste good."

Julia's breath caught in her throat as her vision filled with a poisonous green halo around the pale face filled with serpentine yellow eyes. Julia tried to scream again, but her blood was running warm through her veins, shot through with small pulses like throbbing electricity.The strange woman slowly went to her knees and lifted Julia's skirt.

"No," moaned Julia as the stranger's long tongue slid between Julia's thighs and began its sensual work.

"You like that?" asked the hissing voice.

"No..." gasped Julia, her voice filled with pleasure, her breath gasping with desire for more as her body shook with an electric current rushing up from between her legs.

Julia moaned again...

And again...

And then breathed slower and slower and then...

Silence...

Chapter 1

Welcum to Greenwood

"Are you there yet?" asked Val.

I smiled and turned off the highway, accelerating past the sign for Greenwood, population: 40,000.

"Helloooo. Earth to Gunner Burgh, this is your wife calling," said Val in her sing-song voice.

"Yeah, I'm getting close," I said, "What're you up to right now?" I asked.

"Oh, you know me, I got back from my last seminar, came up to my hotel room, immediately took all my clothes off and laid down in bed," said Val. I could almost see her lying there, bare feet up on the headboard, blonde hair spread out on the soft, plushy bed covers she loved so much. My imagination went further, to her soft, creamy smooth skin and pale, full breasts. Her nipples were so pink they looked fake, like a doll's, and her somewhat chubby face always smiling, her small mouth so capable of opening wide and swallowing me whole like a snake...

"That sounds nice," I said.

"What're you thinking about?"

"You. Are you wearing that black lingerie set I bought you?" I asked.

"I'm at a law conference in Denver relaxing in my hotel room. What makes you think I'm wearing anything at all?" asked Val, a laugh in her throat.

"Well you had my interest but now you have my attention," I laughed and she joined me.

"I wish you were here. I miss you. I want your cock in my ass," she sighed.

"Me too. I just exited off 69 highway. Headed into town. Shouldn't be long now."

"You should...et me come with you," said Val, her voice fading in and out as I drove down a green tunnel of arching apple trees and came out on a road flanked by golden wheat fields. A sign read "Longbow Farms."

"Baby, we always come together," I said, and her musical laughter filled my ears, echoing tinnily from the flip phone.

"Of course we do, bab...ut you know what I meant. No one should have to deal with what you...facing alone."

"I'll manage," I said, holding my flip phone closer to the window in a vain effort to get a better signal. I turned off county route 4 onto Green Street, which ran all the way through town until the cross section with Main. Some kids had painted over the O in County Route. It almost made me chuckle. I passed a self-serve gas station with the sharp angles and full glass panels, relic from the 50s, I thought.

"You shouldn't have to manage alone."

"How's your conference going?" I asked, eager to change the subject and talk about home in the Big City. Twelve years free of Greenwood and I was still calling it the Big City like some corn fed backwoods hillbilly.

I listened half-heartedly as Val told me about the second day of the conference, her voice fading in and out as I drove further into Greenwood. However, even the more salacious activities of the city's legal elite did little to hold my interest.

"Are you...yet?" asked Val. I was. The residential streets were giving way to shop corners and strip malls, all of which looked like they had not been renovated since the 70's. Old, but in excellent condition.

"Getting close," I said as I stopped at the red light above the intersection of Main and Green. I wondered idly if it still blinked yellow every night after ten and all day on sunday.

"What...at? I lost...ignal," said Val, her voice popping in and out.

"I said I'm almost there," I said slowly into the phone.

"I...an't hea...all me b...k la..er."

"Just great," I growled and snapped my brand new flip phone shut.

Turning north at Green onto Main, I drove toward the giant, antebellum style courthouse that served as Greenwood's town hall. It sat in the center of town square, flanked on all sides by probably the last thriving, prewar downtown in the country. The road was paved in brick, there were well managed trees at intervals, potted plants in front of shop windows, and a fountain bubbling in front of the Hall's steps. The Hall itself was the tallest building in town, rising four whole stories - five if you count the belfry - above the brick road.

I parked around the back of the courthouse and sat there for a moment as my engine cooled. A soft breeze welcomed itself through my open window, the air conditioning had stopped working a few minutes previously. As I sat there, I picked up the letter sent to me by chief Augustus George Cole of the Greenwood Police. I didn't need to read it to know what was inside. One reading was all it took to sear horror into my mind and change my life forever.

Your mother is dead, son.

I could almost hear it in his voice. I sighed. Folded up the letter and opened my glove compartment to stow it inside. I saw my service revolver in the compartment, safe in its leather holster next to my badge. Most everyone on the force had switched to machine pistols by now, but I still preferred the old revolver. Couldn't tell you why, though. I grabbed my badge, in case my ID would not be enough to get me in the door. I wouldn't need my gun. This was Greenwood after all. I did not realize the irony of that till I was out of the car.

The town hall atrium was large, with the ceiling rising up three floors, the second and third floor balconies open to look both down and up. It was paved in marble and locally sourced stone. Symbols and paintings of Greenwood's long history decorated the walls, pillars, and marble. My shoes echoed as I stepped onto the marble floor and the door closed with an echoing boom behind me, doing all too much to announce my presence.

In the aftermath of my mother's murder I had assumed the place would be a buzzing hub of activity. I had assumed incorrectly. It was saturday. The place was dead. I looked around for a sign that might point me in the right direction. It came in the form of a young blonde woman emerging from an office door to my left. I say woman but she was so new to the position you might mistake her for a girl. Her delicate frame was nearly swallowed whole by the large, open hall. Her golden hair bounced vigorously above her shoulders and as her blue eyes alighted on me I got the sense she knew who I was, though I was at a loss.

"Good afternoon, Gunner," she said as she approached me, holding several books over her almost flat chest. She wore a knitted sweater and short, plaid skirt, like the kind girls wear at religious schools. I frowned slightly in confusion

"Good afternoon miss..."

"What's the matter, Gunner? You don't recognize me?" said the girl with a mischievous smile, stopping in front of me.

"I'm afraid you have me at a loss, it's been a while since I visited this town."

"Well, I'm glad you're back," said the girl, still smiling at me, a knowing look replacing the mischief that set me off kilter. Her blue eyes were so large it felt like I was looking into two windows to the sky above. I cleared my throat in the silence that followed.

"I'm looking for-"

"Chief Cole. Yeah. He's in his office, right through that door I just came through," said Dakota, pointing back the way she had come. The movement made her overlarge sweater slip off one pale, round shoulder, exposing the crease in her flesh between arm and breast. She did not seem to notice how close she was to exposing herself. Either that or she did not care.

"Thank you," I said.

"No problem. I'll see you soon, Gunner," she said and left the way I had come. I watched her go, my eyes trapped for a moment on her slight, nubile form. Something began stirring within the walls of my ribcage, something raw and filled with a hungry energy.

As the girl disappeared through the doors and I looked away, the spell broken. I shook my head and ran a hand through my messy, brown hair. It had been too long since I had last been with a woman, and now of all times my body was letting me know. I walked hurriedly across the empty, cold atrium, as if I could escape my growling desires if I ran away from the girl who had caused them to stir.

The Greenwood police department was as different from my own precinct as one could get. For one thing it was clean. For another, it was quiet and empty. I stood in the reception area, looking around at the bullpen. The space was clearly used. The coffee pot was brewing, phones were beeping softly with messages waiting to be delivered, and civilian coats hung on pegs by the door. However, for all I knew, I was the only person in the office.

I stood silently for several moments, overwhelmed by some kind of culture shock. In the city my offices were constantly bombarded with phone calls, shouted jokes, demands for signed paperwork, and business was constantly interrupted by perps getting dragged in for questioning. The air should have smelled of cold coffee, stale cigarettes, sweat, and mold. I took a whiff and, aside from the freshly brewed coffee, I only smelled oiled leather, cleaning supplies, and wood polish. Greenwood's local PD offices could not be any more different from home. I found myself oddly jealous of this hometown simplicity.

I looked around for the receptionist. She was not at her desk but I could see she had been recently. There was a celebrity magazine open next to a shaker with some kind of healthy looking green juice sitting next to the phone. A brush, thick with neon colored hair, lay next to a bottle of black nail polish. The computer at the receptionist desk was off but as I looked around I saw that most desks were still sporting typewriters. Typewriters, for Fuck's sake. I snorted in disbelief and made my way to the back of the office where a closed door held a sign that read, "Chief of Police. Augustus George Cole." The blinds were drawn on the ubiquitous glass windows. I knocked on the door.

"One minute," called a very feminine voice that clearly did not belong to chief Cole. I frowned in confusion and stood patiently waiting and listening at the door. I heard the sound of someone rising to their feet, the soft brushing noise of clothing pulled back into place and the musical jingle of a loose belt buckle. I rolled my eyes, fairly certain I knew what was going on behind closed doors.

Those closed doors soon opened up, revealing a curvy woman about my age, early thirties, with neon colored hair, rosy red cheeks and glistening wet lips. She wore a plum colored dress and cream cardigan. Her dress strained to cover her plump body, straining over her wide hips and stretched tight across her heavy breasts, atop-which bounced a pair of glasses on a bead chain.

"Gunner Burgh, is that you?" gasped the woman, hands going to her mouth. Before I could respond she cried out, "Holy Fuck, it is you." Before I knew what was happening the woman enveloped me in a soft, fleshy hug.

"Oh, Gunner, I'm so sorry about your mother," said the woman, with a gasp, pulling back and folding both of her heavily tattooed hands over her ample, rolling cleavage as if she had only just remembered. I noticed that, even in Big City, receptionists were not as heavily inked as this woman. "We all loved her here, and I want you to know that I voted for her."

"Thank you..." I said, allowing the words to hang unfinished in the air as I tried to discern who this woman was to me, or who I was to her. Call me silly, but after letting the attractive blonde mystery walk away, I felt the need to solve at least one enigma today.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Gunner, you must think me so forward, just coming up and hugging a married man like that, and without even making sure you remembered me. I'm Maddie Lou Corner, we graduated highschool together, remember?"

"Of course," I lied. Greenwood was a small town and this woman appeared to be approximately near my age, so I assumed we had gone to school together. I had gone to school with everyone within my age range back in the day, so this did not really clear things up. Maddie Lou saw me struggling and smiled a secretive, mischievous smile. Leaning in close until her breasts were crushed between us, she placed both hands on my shoulders, rose on her tiptoes and whispered in my ear;

"Remember, behind the bleachers at the freshman football game? And the bathroom during the second period? And detention in Mrs. Salzman's office after detention? And that one time in the boy's locker room with the whole-"

"Oh, Maddie Lou, of course," I said, feeling the memories rush from the back of my head all the way down my spine to lodge between my legs. I felt heat building growing down there as at least one part of me viscerally remembered the many, many, many times I had spent with Maddie Lou, the highschool cumsock, throughout our school days.

"Oh, look at me, I've gone and made you blush," said Maddie Lou, falling back on her heels causing her breasts to dance dangerously close to falling out of their plum, fabric bondage. She looked down and giggled. "And that's not all I did." She took a step back, folding her arms beneath her breasts as if she wanted to push them free of her dress. Her words were apologetic but brazen mischief danced merrily in her muddy brown eyes and across her painted red lips as she glanced down at the bulge in my slacks.

"No, no, it's quite alright," I began to say.

"Well I hope it was better than alright, I practiced a lot," she laughed, her joyful voice echoing in the empty police offices. From what I had heard growing up, she had started practicing on her cousins, but it was her uncle's pack of hunting dogs who always got very excited when she came to visit.

"So, you're married now? Last I remember your maiden name was Johnson," I said.

"It was, I'm so glad you noticed," she said, holding up a large rock on her ring finger. "Davie and I got married a few years back, he's a wonderful business man, came to Greenwood for college, imagine that, and well, you know how it is, once you come to Greenwood, you never leave again, except you of course. But you're back! Anyway, He owns the contract for all the town IT work. He even installed the new security system in this drafty old place with new key cards and everything. When He's not doing that, he's working on the old billiard hall down on Green and 3rd street, right around the corner from Ye Olde Pizza Shoppe, and fixing it up. You should swing by."

"I just might, that's near my hotel," I said, and wondered why I had told her that. I did not make it a habit to tell People more than they needed to know, and yet here I was sharing the location of my lodgings with, for all intents and purposes, a complete stranger. I may have graduated with Maddie Lou, but 12 years is a long time to be away, and I was here to find a murderer, not a friend. For the first time since I got the news, I realized that my target might be both.