Judging Art Ch. 03

Chapter Three- Judging Art

The yellow cab stopped in front of her porch and Astraea got out and began unloading her suitcase. At the sounds of the slamming door, Mrs. Ramirez rushed out to greet her daughter with sloppy kisses on her cheeks.

"My pumpkin! What is this…" she said, lifting Astraea's hands and pinching her waist as if she was poultry for sale.

"Mama…" Astraea began, knowing full well her mother will not stop fretting over her daughter's weight loss since she went to London.

"Now, my pumpkin, don't you worry about your room… I've had Henrietta clean out the guest room just for you!" her mother chirped; her grip still firm on her arms and pulling her towards the kitchen.

"My babycakes!" someone exclaimed as she entered the kitchen. The pudgy, pot bellied man gestured her to his lap as his smile widened like that of a Cheshire cat. Astraea let out a gust of air and tried to smile, anticipating, albeit dreading the bear hug that she was about to receive.

Her father literally lifted her up onto his lap and rested her on his round tummy. His hearty laugh thundered through the room as he hugged her like she was some down pillow.

"Papa… I'm glad to see you too," Astraea managed to say. "Where's my evil half, Papa?"

"Hey! I heard that!" Astraea turned to see her brother holding a pan full of flagella beans.

"Mmm… smells wonderful," she said and using her fingers started picking at some beans from the steamy pan, only to get her hands slapped by her mother.

"Theo will feed you, and so will I, but at the table," chided her mother. "What have those little Britons done to my pumpkin till she forgets her manners?"

Later on, after a gastronomical five course dinner, Astraea had to drag herself to the couch, where she lay spent.

"Hey babycakes, lost your appetite?" Theron said as he plumped himself next to her, feeling just as spent as his sister.

"Mama cooked for an army and you were no help!" she exclaimed, trying to push him off the couch.

"Yeah, yeah, which you had almost three helpings of," he replied. "Anyway, I think I'm going to take you to the lab first thing tomorrow. I'm going to introduce you to some people and we can get started. I don't think it's anything complicated. I've done most of the post-mortem but we might have missed something."

Astraea mumbled some unintelligible reply and Theron found himself talking to his snoring sister. Shaking his head, he lifted her and carried her to her bed.

***

"Astraea, this is Ciro Threadgill. He's the chief investigator for the crime scene division," said Theron, introducing his sister to his colleague.

"Pleasure to meet you, sir," Astraea smiled as she shook his hand. She liked his smile. He was very enthusiastic and had a bright smile to his face.

After a lengthy discussion and explanation of the evidence and possible directions to be taken, Astraea found herself feeling rather sick and a little grossed out at what was being outlined to her. There were no signs of forced entry or DNA evidence that suggested a third party at the scene. Astraea figured that this Mrs. Sybilla Wilde must either be a mastermind criminal or a really nasty scapegoat for a perfectly carried out murder.

"The only thing we know so far is that, the Reverend was shot with a .38mm caliber at close range. The police are currently looking in that direction for those stores that carry this model within the area. But that will probably bring them to a dead end and back to square one," Theron concluded.

Astraea was frowning and suddenly turned to Ciro and said, "Your name means 'sun' in Spanish you know. I think it suits your personality very well."

Ciro was laughing so loud; Theron had to close the door to prevent inquisitive ears from stopping by.

"That is by far the strangest response I've ever had to a detailed explanation of a crime scene," he said, still laughing.

"I don't think this is the work of a vengeful wife. Have the police looked at past lovers or current lovers that the Reverend may have had?" Astraea asked.

"Honey, you change your sails faster than the wind blows. Well, Doctor, you need to understand that the Reverend is an extremely respected man in his county and his extramarital-curricular activities are not something that we would want to ask aloud publicly," Ciro replied.

"What is it babycakes? Tell me what's those wheels in your head is suggesting," said Theron.

"He was shot at the head to swiftly kill him. But surely the shot to the heart must have eluded a broken heart of some sort and the testicles; a betrayal. This person, who killed him, isn't just an angry lover. He or she likes to work with things within their control. Think about it- it would be difficult to emasculate someone if they were constantly running for their life right? I'm guessing this person has power or is used to executing with power."

"My, my, that's quite a good theory you have there Miss," said a gruff voice that just entered from the door.

"Oh hey! Astraea, this is Detective Inspector Threadgill, the Detective in charge of this investigation and the bane of my existence," Ciro said, winking at her.

Astraea looked back and forth between them and laughed.

"Ciro, the proper way to introduce the ladies to your older brother is to play upon my best parts. Hi, you can call me Cyrus. I think whatever you said just earned you some personal time in my office," he said, smiling at her.

Astraea looked at Ciro and said, "Hey sunshine, as little siblings, I'm on your side 100% of the way man."

****

An hour later, the four of them found themselves back at the crime scene. The police tape was still in place and luckily this time, the reporters and journalist were not camping outside as they had a few days before.

Astraea held on to her brother's hand as they stepped inside the house. Something about this house caused the alarms in her head to go off. Theron kissed her forehead and led her in. Astraea had never been to a crime scene before, unlike her brother. After her short stint at medical school, she decided pathology was her thing and switched specialty. But gruesome crime scenes were never on her repertoire.

"Shh," Cyrus said, the moment they were inside. "I hear someone. Stay there and don't move until I come down. Ciro, stay with the lady. You, come with me." He gestured to Theron, as they slithered their way up.

Theron felt his heart in his throat, thumping hard. He wasn't sure what to expect. He wasn't a trained cop!

When they reached the top of the stairs, he heard it- soft sobs coming from one of the rooms. Cyrus motioned him closer to the room and kicked the door open, shouting "Freeze! Don't move!"

Then he saw it; her wide, doe-like eyes staring straight at the gun pointing at her. Theron ignored Cyrus's instructions and knelt down beside her.

"Sybilla? Look at me," he said softly, tilting her chin slightly with his fingers. Her eyes had so much fear in them, he thought. Was this woman capable of murder?

"Who are you?" she said meekly.

"My name is Theron… but you can call me Theo if you like. Don't look at the officer, Syb, look at me…" he whispered, soothing her face with his palm. She looked so pale and frightened. He wanted to hold her and cradle those fears away.

"Sybilla, you need to tell me what you're doing here. I won't hurt you, I promise. Do you trust me?" he asked.

He watched her nod very slowly. Then he saw it. She was holding something. Easing her shoulders, he gestured for her to take both his hands.

"Cyrus…" was all he said as he scooped her up.

"I've got it." Cyrus looked at what he held and swore silently. It was a gun, wrapped in a delicate red scarf. He looked at Sybilla who had fainted against Theron's body.

He didn't want to do this; he didn't know what to tell Eulalie, but Mrs. Wilde was possibly holding the murder weapon. Did she come back here to retrieve it before the police could do anymore searches? He didn't want to think.

Back downstairs, Astraea let out a sigh of relief to see Cyrus and then a loud gasp when she saw Theron carrying a woman down the stairs.

"We found her, holding this," Cyrus said, showing them what he had. They did not touch the weapon but merely looked.

"Mi Hermano…" Astraea whimpered.

"Soy fino, Astraea" replied Theron. "Ciro, send her home for me. I'll see you at the station later?"

Astraea was beyond shock as Ciro settled her in the car.

"Babe, you've got to get used to these things. I'm sure you've seen cadavers before right? This isn't even half as spooky," Ciro said, trying to reassure her.

"It isn't that… did you look at her face? She was shocked, hurt and abused."

"Now, now, don't let her bereaved state muddle your professional judgment," Ciro said, holding her hand in his.

"No… She was told to come back here… I could smell her fear Ciro… Damn it! I'm doing it again… I'm sorry…" she said, breathing in deeply to calm herself.

"Where'd you like me to take you?" Ciro asked quietly.

"To wherever Theron is."

Astraea didn't know how to explain it, but having that woman touch Theron, made her feel whatever he felt as well. She knew she needed to talk to him. That woman's aura was clouded with swirls of white smoke. That was an aura of a person who was walking the death route.

***

At the police station, she found Theron through the crowded lobby, sitting morbidly outside the interrogation room.

"Baby girl, what are you doing here?" he asked gently. He knew she had felt him need her and cursed himself for not protecting her more by blocking his thoughts.

"I'm here," was all she said.

Ciro had left her to check on the weapon to see if it had any connections to the investigation. Astraea looked into the interrogation room and saw that woman sitting stonily at one end of the table, facing a beautiful woman at the other end. The other woman had brown hair and in her crisp business suit, she appeared to balance the emotions in the quiet room with her sturdy persona.

"That's her sister; she's a lawyer. God help me," Cyrus muttered their way as he walked into the interrogation room.

"I need to speak to you," Eulalie said softly. She didn't want to upset her sister anymore than she already was. Walking with him to a private room away from the public eye, Eulalie looked at Cyrus and began to tear.

"Baby… please don't do this," Cyrus said, even as his hands held her close in an embrace.

"She looked like a fucking ghost Cyr… I feel almost afraid to speak to her for fear she will break into pieces. Tell me, what is it that needs to be done."

"Until the fingerprints are confirmed and the weapon matched with the bullet found at the scene; we will have to detain her. If the evidence is against her, I'm sorry baby, but I will have to take her in," he said. Cyrus wasn't used to discussing his work options to anyone, much more a woman.

Eulalie closed her eyes and simply pressed her lips to his, drawing in his strength and hoping it would be enough to help her through the interrogation with Sybilla.

***

"Mrs. Wilde," Cyrus began but sensing how she flinched and withdrew to herself at the sound of that name, he decided to change his tactics. "Sybilla… I know this has been a very difficult time for you. I know you are hurting inside but I need you to help us so we can help you."

"Ne craignez pas, Sybilla…" Eulalie added, trying to reassure her sister's fear.

Sybilla stared at the Detective in front of her and her sister beside her. How did two incredibly tough and hot-headed people turn so soft and gentle so suddenly? She noticed the way her sister's eye caught the Detective's every once in a while and she smiled to herself. Ah… to feel that flutter of attraction… she once believed she found it in Jackson… before… before…

3.45am

"Damn it! Damn that bitch to hell," he muttered under his breath as he slammed the car door shut. He knew that she had found out about his late night excursions, but there was no need for this… this unbearable silence. Looking up from the garage door, he could vaguely see the silhouette of her figure by the lighted window.

Time to face the music.

The air around him was still; the trees hung shadows above his head as he strode to the door. Talk about a warm welcome:

Her palm met his cheeks even before he could open his mouth. She wasn't crying nor was she angry. Damn that woman. If she had been angry or sad, it would do his ego some good but instead, she smiled and said, "That's for being a naughty boy and leaving me all alone in the house all day." She took his coat and even went to the kitchen asking if he wanted something to drink.

"Syb… I can explain…"

"Would that be milk or sugar with your coffee dear? Why do I even ask, it's both isn't it?" she gave a small chuckle and busied herself.

"Syb! Please, listen to me!" he grabbed her shoulders and the movement caused her to spill the coffee on his shirt. There was a hurt look on her face. At last! Some real emotions! But he was wrong…

"Honey! This is a new shirt!" she exclaimed while frantically began wiping the mess off his shirt.

"Never mind the damn shirt! Will you look at me?!"

Her eyes which were downcast slowly lifted up, almost in challenge, to meet his gaze.

"Could you drop this stupid act Syb? Could you please be angry or something? Don't you walk around at four in the morning and pretend nothing's wrong!"

"Is there?" her tone was of defiance; a challenge to his sanity.

"Couldn't you even ask where I was? Did it not occur to you that I have been sleeping with someone else? Cry Syb… or lash at me! I deserve it, but not this!"

She simply stood there, blankly, not saying a word.

"How long more do you want to go on like this Syb? You've known all this while and all you could muster was to play the role of a dutiful wife?"

"That's why I want to end this now," he saw the movement even before he heard the words.

"What?! Sybilla… no, please, not like this…" he pleaded. The gun was pointed at his head. It clicked and the last vision he had was his beautiful wife, the woman he had hurt emotionally, lying unconscious on the ground… before everything turned cold and so, so dark.

She thought she heard someone calling her name. Opening her eyes, she saw Eulalie's eyes staring at her. Her big sister was always there for her. But this wasn't their house; the walls were so grey and cold-like. Then her eyes met the Detective's: His black irises were hardened to coal-like composition as was his face; taut and expressionless.

"We have a half brother," was all she said, before she fainted again.

****

From that moment, everything turned chaotic. Eulalie was screaming for an ambulance; Theron and Astraea were doing on-scene CPR and an officer had barged in telling him that a mob of reporters had found their way into the police station lobby.

Cyrus stilled himself for a minute before yelling his instructions, in an attempt to bring order. Putting Theron in charge of the situation in the interrogation room, he pulled Eulalie away from the mayhem and into his office.

"Stay here!" he ordered and locked the door. He needed her to calm down; he needed her to think with him; he needed her, period.

Ciro was nowhere to be found. Cyrus needed that lab reports right now and was in a murderous fury as he approached the overly crowded station lobby. There were reporters everywhere; somehow they had been at the house and had followed them back to the police station. They had seen Theron carrying Mrs. Wilde into the police car and he knew that each of them wanted every detail, every morsel of information they could find.

"Inspector! Here, here!"

"Is it true that Mrs. Wilde was found at the crime scene? What was she doing there? Did she have an alibi?"

"Tell us Inspector, how does it feel handling the Wilde case, seeing that the Reverend is a highly respected man?"

His posture was calm but his eyes were menacing. It was then he spotted Ciro, who came to his side and tried to push the crowd out the door, with the help of other police officers. Suddenly, a soft voice interrupted them

"You don't have anything do you?" came the accusation. Both brothers turned to face a petite Asian woman who simply stood there, without a mike trust under their noses like the others.

"Why you…" Ciro started to threatened but was halted by his brother. The woman glided past them and said to the crowd, "They have no leads, that's why they can't tell us anything. It's no use being here. You all might as well head home."

Her comment only seemed to spark more questions from the crowed and Cyrus motioned to his immediate officers to attend to them. He had more pressing matter at hand. Ciro had passed him the report and was suddenly no where in sight. Feeling the throbbing in his head, Cyrus made his way back to his office.

***

She was sitting down quietly and had regained back some of her composure. The steel arrogance he had noticed the first time was back on her face and her eyes were set in pure determinism.

"Thank you," she said as he approached her. "That was very unprofessional of me to turn all hysterical like that."

"Love does that to us all," Cyrus replied as his hands cupped her face, crushing his lips to hers.

"I need you," he said as he fumbled impatiently with her buttons. Their mouths never left each others' even as their hands busied themselves trying to get the other, naked.

With his cock hardening, he simply pushed her down and forced her to suck him.

"Get me all wet baby. You'll need it," he said as her warm mouth descended on his rock hard cock. His fingers found her pussy and drilled two of his thick fingers into her. She was wet enough for him.

Pulling her mouth off his cock, he leaned her back on his desk and entered her pussy without warning. Eulalie screamed as his thick cock pushed its way into her tight pussy. She knew she was going to get sore later on, but she didn't care at the moment. She gripped her legs around his waist and bucked her hips to meet his downward thrusts.

Cyrus was moaning and groaning as he felt the first rush of his sperm threatening to explode inside her warm pussy. God, she was so tight! He increased his speed as he thrust into her, feeling her pussy muscles gripping him as she came. It was time for him now.

"I'm going to cum baby…" he said, pumping her pussy hard, pushing her to the brink of another orgasm.

"Cum… inside me… Hurry…" was all she could say before she came with such a force that made her tremble in his arms. Seeing her writhe in such pleasure, Cyrus couldn't hold himself anymore and came deep and hard inside her. He could feel her tight pussy muscles milking every drop of him. He shut his eyes close as he bucked his hips against hers, emptying himself inside her warm hole.

He lay on top of her for a while, catching his breath before looking down at her face.

"You're beautiful, Duras. It would take an insane man not to want you," he said to her. He saw how flushed she was against his dark cocoa skin and figured that he liked it that way. "You're mine," he breathed into her ear.

***

About two hours later…

The mob of reporters downstairs were beginning to dwindle in numbers and finally some peace was returned to the headquarters.