Sounds of Murder

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Rocky, of course, was waiting for her. When she told him of her encounter with the crazed driver, he became even more incensed than usual, insisting that she call the police immediately. She sat on the edge of their bed, still clutching her purse and books.

"Rocky, no!" she pleaded, "I just need to calm down for a moment. I can't take anymore police right now." She looked at him soulfully.

"All right," he demurred, "but, just until you relax a bit, then we're contacting them."

"Fine," she agreed, and set her belongings aside and removed her jacket. "Is Angie here?"

"No, she's spending the night at Tina's. Did you get anything to eat?" he asked.

"Yes," she responded, "Plenty of Who-Who's' burritos and several of their margaritas."

"Are you sure this guy in the car wasn't some alcohol-induced figment of your imagination?"

"Definitely not!" she said, with irritation.

"Okay, Babe," he said, "just wait here a minute. I know what you need."

She leaned back on the bed, her head feeling like a throbbing tomato on the pillow. Oh, my God, she wondered. How much did I drink? I know what I experienced, and I was chased by a crazy driver. It did happen.

Rocky was gone for a while. When he returned, he handed her one of his famous cups of hot cocoa.

"Work on this," he said. She sipped slowly on the luscious liquid, the foam top coating her upper lip. Her husband disappeared into their bathroom and soon she could hear water running in their tub. When he returned later, he grabbed her hand and led her to the bathroom.

"Let's get those clothes off," he ordered.

"Yes, sir!" She gave him a wobbly salute.

She saw that he'd filled the tub and put in her favorite bubble bath. He'd lit a vanilla candle and set it on the sink, the aroma from the wax filling the room. She stripped off her blouse and skirt and then slid out of her underwear. Carefully she lifted a leg over the edge and lowered herself into the tub.

Rocky dimmed the lights until only the flickering candlelight remained. He sat at the end of the tub near her feet and pressed the Jacuzzi button. Immediately soft foam churned into large billows. Sliding lower in the tub, Pamela leaned her head back.

"Give me your foot," he ordered. She lifted her right leg and placed her heel in his palm. Using firm but consistent movements he massaged the bottom of her foot, being careful to manipulate each toe. Pamela experienced relaxation move throughout her body, her worries seeping slowly away, as if passing out of her foot and into Rocky's strong hands.

"So," he spoke softly, "do you feel like talking or should I just rub?"

"Rub," she mumbled.

"You must've had a great time with your girlfriends," he noted, smiling.

"Yup," she agreed.

"The three of you probably were in gossip heaven," he added.

She opened her eyes, somewhat annoyed. "Gossip? Never!" she declared. "We're scientists. We analyze. We evaluate."

"Yeah," he said, nodding perceptively, "It looks like you've analyzed yourself into a drunken stupor. I'm surprised you made it home."

"And with a maniac following me," she added, waving her arms around.

"Well," he observed, "you won't have to worry about that this weekend."

"Why?" she asked, sitting up a bit, the tub water sloshing around.