Page 58 of Lizbeth's Lesbian Collection

“I tried to find you at the office, but you weren’t there. What are you doing in bed at this hour?” he asked.

Leslie recognized John Longcore’s voice, with its unmistakable soft low pitch he must have developed as a teacher. She feared it was likely monotonous to listen to for any length of time, poor students.

“What do you usually do in bed at three in the afternoon?” Leslie replied curtly. “I’m certainly not sick.”

“Good, then you’ll be able to help me right way.”

“Is it better than making love?”

“Of course not, but this is an emergency.”

“What’s up?” Leslie asked, trying to sound interested, although at the moment, the idea of going to work wasn’t greeted favorably by either body or mind.

“It’s Betsy,” John said, as if that should explain it all. He sounded worried.

“Yeah?” Leslie recalled John’s brunette sister with a good deal of regret. She was about the only woman she knew who hadn’t slept with Betsy Longcore. The luscious little thing looked as innocent as a child – like Rosalie she supposed, without the Latino. However, she had a reputation for sucking pussy that reached all around the city.

“She’s been arrested,” John said, voice cracking.

“What!”

“Felicia Roman was murdered yesterday, or this morning or something.”

“Betsy killed Felicia?” Leslie gasped in horror. She always thought it would be the other way around; the rude Felicia Roman was a holy terror.

“No, damn it no!” John started to shout.

“Hey, calm down,” Leslie said, realizing that her good friend was about to come unglued.

“The police think they have enough circumstantial evidence to charge her. She’s been in custody since early this morning.”

“And you’d like me to investigate?”

“Yes.” She could sense the tears she couldn’t see in John’s soft blue eyes. He had a perpetual sadness about him, which was likely all the worse now. “I don’t know what to do, but I know she didn’t do it,” John assured her.

“Have you seen her?”

“She called from the jail, they took her in right away. I got her a lawyer. But I think this calls for more than just a good defense. There’s a bunch of women living up on the Hill, any one could have killed Felicia. Betsy says she’s innocent, and I believe her.”

Lots of people are innocent, Leslie thought to herself. “Okay, I’ll look into it. See what I can do. You just stay calm.”

“Calm! There’s no way I’m going to calm down about this until someone else is behind bars for that murder.” His voice cracked painfully, making Leslie wince.

“Yeah, I know. Maybe have a stiff drink,” she said sympathetically, “you take care of yourself…” She hung up the phone.

Leslie knew John Longcore from the marches a few years back. He was a sweet gay man with lots of charm, but not much backbone in a crisis. And dammit what a crisis. Felicia Roman murdered! That wasn’t as hard to believe as the idea that the woman was actually gone, dead. She hadn’t even bothered to ask how it happened. Likely it was very messy; Felicia could fight like a tiger. Who would have the guts, the audacity to do it? My god, she figured anyone who murdered her would likely be haunted into eternity by Felicia’s ghost.

And Betsy Longcore, she mused to herself. Sweet generous little hussy that she was, did she have it in her?

“What’s wrong?” Rosalie asked, dropping her arm around Leslie’s shoulder. She felt so seductively warm, Leslie would have liked to have fallen back into bed with her.

“Gotta go,” she said. “Murder in the wind.”

“Oh, not again?” Rosalie said despondently. Leslie had just finished a murder case that took six months to solve.

“It’s the job, hon,” Leslie answered.

“You be careful, I don’t need my lover murdered,” Rosalie said, concerned. She wasn’t used to Leslie’s P.I. job, although for that matter Leslie had never gotten used to murder.

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