Chapter 21    Heather left Leila with lots of things to think over, but for now she decided her best course of action was go home, feed herself, get some rest, and prepare for her stakeout at the bar tonight. If Gary Kline really had nothing to hide, then he wouldn’t show up at the bar to try and find those fake security tapes.  Perhaps her diligence would pay off in other ways too. Maybe Gary would lead her to other clues? It seemed a long stretch, but if the man was spooked enough, guilty of more than just an affair, maybe he would go searching the pond to retrieve a phone for evidence per say?Leila grabbed some takeout on the way, as she was in no mood to mess with cooking, or anything that required much effort tonight. She was already feeling the effects of the mental and physical exhaustion her body had been put through over the last few days. She knew that poor Sterling was experiencing it even worse no doubt, but like hell was she goi

Leila watched from her truck parked across the road, as Sheriff Thorne bungled his way through his half-assed investigation, or more correctly called in some back-up to do most of the leg work. She wasn’t leaving that lot until the police left. She decided to make good use of her time though. Starting by a detailed email to Sterling’s lawyer along with a copy of her video.Next, she decided to have another look at the Facebook page to the bar, as well as any other social media sites connected to the joint. Her tedious, blurry-eyed search was rewarded though, as after a couple hours of staring at a tiny screen, it was clear that Gary Kline was accounted for at the window of Clyde’s murder.His friends surprisingly were an active social media bunch, for middle- aged men, but perhaps that was just because they were extremely intoxicated that night. Photos, short videos, and even some tweets seemed to give Gary an alibi during the time of the murder. One

Sterling’s nimble fingers danced up Leila’s inner thighs causing her body to shiver. She swallowed thickly as the anticipation of his touch on her throbbing bud was nearly too much to bear. But the sexy bar owner hadn’t been joking when he’d said he had no problems taking things slow. He smiled up at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes, before he lowered his head to replace his fingers with his mouth. The softness of his kisses against her creamy thighs stole the breath from her lungs. His touch was so soft, his lips so featherlight, goosebumps adorned her skin in his wake. Despite the heat in the room, the fire in his eyes, Leila found herself quivering atop the table.His hot tongue glided a line gently up her inner legs, getting ever so close to the cusp of her moist slit. His thumbs traced idle circles on the outside of her thighs. The combination of which, the damp heat of his tongue, and the firmer pressure of his fingertips, was nearly enou

It was hard for Leila to clear her mind and focus on the way to Margret Morten’s house. Savored memories of what she and Sterling had gotten up to in her kitchen, and the promises of their date night ahead, filled her mind and her body with heat. It was a good things Zenia had insisted on driving because her Volkswagen had air that still worked, which helped to somewhat cool Leila’s overheated skin. But the mid-July heat couldn’t be solely to blame for it as Leila fanned her most modest sundress away from her breasts to allow the cool air to seep in like a most welcomed caress. Well, almost as welcomed as the one the sexy bar owner had treated her tingling nipples to atop her table. She had tried without success to stop thinking about the man who made her body still shudder even now after being parted from him for over an hour. It had been a long torturous hour in the most delightful ways as her mind imagined all the good things to come and her body responded to it

As Mrs. Morten headed off into the kitchen to get that pie, Leila and Zenia put their heads together for a private powwow of sorts.“I hope you know what you’re doing here girl. Trying to get the old lady to talk. But if you say the wrong thing, it’s game over,” warned Zen.She picked up a Fig Newton from the coffee table, sniffed it, then scrunched up her face and put it back.“Why do white people like to eat cardboard? Where’s all the flavor?”Leila grinned, “Much farther south. But just follow my lead. I know she’s holding out on us. She knows something. She has too.”“I’m getting some serious unhealthy incest vibes in this place. I mean Clyde is like what, old like forty, and it’s not normal for a man to have never lived on his own. He’s like still attached to his mama’s tit or something. Creepy. And did you notice like all the pictures o