The Ghost of Dome Rock Road

Afternoon Delight

Eileen turned down the private road leading to the Jankins' lakefront villa. It was a scorching hot day, and her air-conditioner was running full blast. Still, it felt like it was way warmer than the 72° her thermostat was reading. She had a fluttery, empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. Part of her nervousness came from the fact that she hadn't been to the lake house since before she and Barry parted ways. That was almost two years ago. John Jankins told Eileen she was welcome to use the place anytime, and she hoped that offer was still valid. But she had never used the villa to meet a man discreetly.

A large stone wall spanned the perimeter of the Jankins' property. When Eileen crossed through the wrought-iron gates and drove down the driveway, she saw something that made her cringe. She squeezed the steering wheel so hard she felt she might lose feeling in her fingers. Parked right by the front door was an Arizona Highway Patrol cruiser. 'Didn't he say he was going to be off work today?' she thought as she pulled in behind Damian's car. Damian got out of his car and headed back to the Cherokee. Eileen lowered the driver's side window. "Sorry! I hope I didn't surprise you. I called and left you a message at your house earlier, Ms. Jankins." "I never pay attention to that phone, and please, call me Eileen. I keep the ringer on my house phone turned off. Way too many crank calls and salespeople." She turned off the ignition. "So, they just let you take your patrol car wherever you want, do they?" Eileen asked playfully. The question puzzled Damian momentarily. "Ah... I got a call at the last minute to investigate a crash near Salome. I finished that, so I technically have the rest of the day off.

"Let's go inside. It's hotter than, well, you know," Eileen said as she grabbed a small bag from the seat beside her. Damian opened her door. As she got out, Damian noticed how tall and lean Eileen Jankins was. She was wearing a thin tank top, cropped tan pants, and heeled sandals. The heels made her look even taller. They approached the front door when Eileen got a slightly puzzled look on her face. She turned back to Damian, "I hope I can remember the alarm code. It's been a long time since I've been here." There was no keyed lock. Instead, a small panel with a keypad hung on the wall adjacent to the door. She punched in a series of numbers. Nothing. She tried again—still nothing. Then, after looking like she was counting out some numbers in her head, she entered another sequence into the keypad. An electronic buzz followed, and the door popped open slightly. It reminded Damian of the Yuma County Detention Center when some unseen person would 'buzz you' into the facility. Except this was no detention center, that was for sure.

As impressive as the villa seemed from the outside, with its sprawling collection of marble statues and neatly groomed ornamental cacti, the interior was a portrait of opulence. The foyer sported a gleaming marbled tile floor with patterned decorative inserts. That led to an expansive living space furnished with various Old-World Spanish-style furniture pieces. Large expensive-looking paintings framed in gold leaf adorned the walls. "Not bad for a beach house, huh?" Eileen exclaimed. Damian grinned, "it reminds me a little of my uncle's home back in Mexico City." "Wow! They must have been well-off," said Eileen. "Oh yeah. My uncle was high up in the Mexican government. They helped put my father through medical school." "So, your dad's a doctor, huh?" "Yeah, he's a neurosurgeon." "And here you are, a highway patrolman. That must not have sat well with your parents," Eileen stuttered, realizing she might have been a little too presumptuous with someone she barely knew. "It's a long story, really, but everything's cool nowadays," Damian replied. Eileen broke through the awkward moment by asking Damian to join her in the kitchen.

"Have a seat," Eileen said as she pointed at a table next to a large bay window with expansive views of Lake Havasu. "I'm gonna make some coffee. You want some?" Eileen asked. "Sure. Cream no sugar, please. Ms. Jank-, I mean Eileen... you mentioned on the phone that there was some more information you wanted to tell me." Damian had tried to quiz Eileen about the information over the phone, but Eileen insisted on meeting in person. "Yes, I do. I thought it might be useful," Eileen said as she placed an empty coffee cup on the table. After laying the cup on the table, she got close, bent over, and laid her hand ever so gently on Damian's knee. "I really appreciate you coming here today," she said. Her gaze drifted between Damian's eyes and his lips - then very slowly down to his knee. The touch of Eileen's hand sent a bolt of electricity through Damian, and he jerked back ever so slightly.

Sensing the trooper's hesitancy, Eileen removed her hand and sat down on the other side of the table. "I mean, it just wouldn't seem right if no one questioned the sheriff's actions that day. Barry was kind of crazy and unpredictable, but never in a really dangerous kind of way." "That's odd," Damian said. "Sheriff Koontz told me he initiated an elaborate pursuit because he was convinced that Barry posed a grave threat to public safety." Eileen began laughing, then caught herself. "Barry, a threat to public safety, oh please!" she said. "Ok, Eileen, but why did you have a restraining order on your ex? And why did you call 911 that day?" Damian asked.

Eileen glared at Damian, visibly annoyed at what she thought might have turned into an interrogation. "First off, I did not call 911! That was my crabby, nosey old-bitty neighbor Betty. She's a total drama queen. Ok!" Eileen's voice became shrill. "Sheriff Koontz was the one who convinced me to get the restraining order after a big ruckus that happened when they served Barry the divorce papers." Eileen's tone changed from annoyed to remorseful, "I just wanted to keep Barry away from the house. Before we divorced, Barry and I were separated. The problem was, he would keep coming over when I wasn't home, stirring Lizzy up with all kinds of dumb ideas. One time Lizzy and I left to go to San Diego for a long weekend. Barry came over with some of his friends and partied all weekend at my house. He left a mess and stole money from one of my purses. I changed the locks, but Barry kept finding a way to get in!"

Sensing that Eileen had become defensive, Damian tried to defuse the tension. "Eileen, I'm sorry. I had no idea of your circumstances. I didn't mean to imply anything." "I'm sorry too," Eileen demurred. "You're just trying to help. It's just that I get a little worked up talking about my history with Barry." "No worries, Eileen. Thanks for what you've told me. You know this is bad news for Sheriff Koontz." Eileen nodded in agreement. "I mean, I know now the sheriff was lying to me at the accident scene. That's something I'll have to investigate further." "You know Barry and that sheriff had a history that went way back. There was a complicated relationship between the sheriff and Barry's dad," Eileen said. "What do you mean?" Damian asked. "One time, I overheard John saying some not-so-positive things about the sheriff. I know that John never trusted him, but John needed to be careful because he always asked Koontz for favors when Barry would get in trouble. "

"So, what's next?" Eileen asked. "Well, first, I go back and review my report. To remind me exactly who said what," Damian replied. He felt vindicated. He's been on the right track the whole time. The sheriff lied to him. That would qualify as a false report and provide him the license for further investigation. "You mean the sheriff could be in trouble for lying to you?" Eileen asked. "Yes, definitely!" Damian replied. "It's possible that if the sheriff didn't act responsibly that day, it could turn out to be grounds for a wrongful death claim. He could even be forced to resign and might also face possible criminal prosecution. I need to talk to John Jankins. Do you have his phone number?" "Sure, let me find something to write it down on," Eileen replied. Eileen rose from the table and walked across the kitchen to the coffee maker. As she did, Damian's eyes explored the woman's slender physique. Eileen looked back briefly and noticed his stare. When their eyes met, she smiled and gave him a subtle wink. Damian kept trying to tell himself he was there 'on business matters,' though that farce was breaking down quickly. Yes, he was there to dig up dirt on the sheriff, sure, but the woman in the room with him, who reminded him so much of his old girlfriend and smelled so good when she came over and placed her hand on his knee... Well, let's just say he might have the 411 he was looking for but now wondered if he'd get more than he bargained for today.

Eileen scribbled on a notepad, then turned to the coffee maker and started removing the carafe from the machine when she stopped. She slid the carafe back into the machine and turned the power switch off. Wheeling around, Eileen began a slow, sultry walk back to Damian. She pulled the bottom of her tank top out of her pants and started lifting it over her head as she began to straddle Damian's legs. He sat up in the chair. She lowered herself slowly onto his lap, then grabbed his hands and guided them up to her chest. "You like these?" she murmured in his ear. Damian let out a low growl as he unsnapped Eileen's bra with one hand and cupped her firm breasts - caressing her long, now erect nipples gently. Eileen arched her back and let out a long, sensual moan. She grasped the back of Damian's neck and pulled his head forward, their lips meeting. Sitting on his lap, Eileen could feel Damian getting more and more excited. She whispered softly in his ear, "Not here. If you think the living room was amazing, wait till you see the master bedroom."