Miss Dixieland Ch. 08-09

Delta couldn't help but smile. "Well, you will make a very cute bunny."

Sasha leaned in close and winked. "What is it that rabbits are known for?"

Delta swallowed hard, and for the life of her couldn't remember why she had been pushing Sasha away. She was also trying to remember that she was there for work, no matter the tempting the swell of Sasha's breasts over the top of the suit. The two ideas conflicted in her head. She felt that there must be a balance between time with Sasha and time working if she could just figure it out. She jerked her eyes upwards to Sasha's face and saw that Sasha was looking at her intently as well, her kohl-rimmed eyes heavy with desire.

It was just then that Stanford appeared at the back of the changing area. "I need to speak with Delta Bayou." Delta didn't like the way her first name sounded in his mouth. It was so intimate on his lips. He normally just called her "Robbins" at work. Or "hey, you," when he was being a dick. Which was often.

Sasha looked at Stanford and then touched Delta's arm in support. "Good luck. He's hot but he looks like an asshole."

If only you knew, Delta wanted to say. But instead, she just followed Stanford around to the small office he had commandeered to do his interviews in. It was less trendy that the stripped part of the building, a small square space with a too big desk and shiny walls paneled in fake wood. "What?"

He narrowed his eyes at her sharp tone, but then they grew wide again as he took in her outfit. He pulled at the corner of his shirt. "What... ah what are you supposed to be?"

"A sexy witch."

He looked up at the ceiling. "Uh-huh. Well, have you been watching them?"

"Who?"

"The suspects."

"Of course I've been watching them, Stanford, what do you think I'm doing here?"

"Flirting with your blonde paramour? Wasting time making googly eyes at her rather than doing your real work?"

Delta ignored him and sat on the desk, crossing her legs. The skirt of her witch's dress rode up scandalously high. She noticed Stanford's quick glance at legs, but he looked away quickly. "The judges all seem stressed- rightfully so," she said. "Phil looks like he hasn't slept in a week. Mike's temper seems to be on edge. Malcolm is aloof as always. And Cassandra is..." she rolled her eyes "doing everything she can to get sympathy for herself."

"You'll have to introduce her to me next."

"Yeah, she's just your type. Vapid and blonde."

He scoffed. "What would you know about my type?"

"I assume you like them airheaded. Wouldn't want anyone challenging your own intellect. Now is there anything else? I've got some photos to take." She pressed her arms together, knowing that it made her already exposed breasts even more noticeable. In her mind, she dared Stanford to look at them so she could call him out, but he seemed to find the paneling on the wall more interesting.

"Yeah actually there is. I know that you like to think that you're infallible, but as you proved last night, you are clearly in a little over your head on this one." He met her eyes. It was a challenging gaze. "But you need to think about your own safety. Just watch them. Don't get into anything too dangerous. Don't go off alone with anyone. Someone here murdered a man. No one in this competition is safe until we find out who did it and why."

Delta frowned. "Really, Stanford? This is my case. Don't pretend that this is about something else. You're trying to get me to step back because you know that I'm close to solving it. And if I do, you're no longer going to be the precinct's golden boy!"

"Jesus fucking Christ!" He sighed and crossed his arms. "Is that what you really think of me?"

Delta slammed a fist down on the table. "And why shouldn't it be? Ever since I got here, all you've done is try to take the best work away from me, try to get in my way on my investigations. Admit it. You're trying to push me out of the way so you can win this bet and humiliate me."

"Humiliate you! You proposed the bet in the first place!"

"Because how else was I supposed to get you to respect me?"

He didn't respond for several moments and she finally felt brave enough to look at his face. His jaw was a tight line. He seemed to be biting the inside of his cheek, which was flushed with red, even under his tan. A line of tension ran through his neck, down his squared shoulders, and into his fisted hand. When he turned to look at her, she almost wished he hadn't. His hazel eyes seemed dark. "Take me to Cassandra," he said. "I'll interview her next." His voice didn't come out loud, as Delta had expected. Instead, it was soft, with what emotion, she didn't know. She simply stood on her heels and led him to the front of the room where she saw Cassandra still sitting in the same chair she had been in earlier.

Cassandra looked up at Stanford and blinked twice. A small smile crept into the bottom of her mouth, although her eyes were wide and wet, filled at the bottom with tears. "Well hello, Officer," she said to Stanford, ignoring Delta completely. Delta noticed the shifting of her posture. The way her eyes were drawn to him, the way her curved shoulders seemed to fall in, making her breasts more visible, making herself seem smaller, more vulnerable. The way she exposed her neck to him, tilted as it was ever so slightly towards his body. And did her Southern accent suddenly seem more pronounced? Ugh. She likes him.

Delta realized that her mouth must have fallen slightly open with Cassandra's blatant flirting. She closed it firmly, her jaw set in a hard line. She hoped that Stanford could see through Cassandra's coy flirtation, but then he smiled back at her. Delta could even see the little dimple he had curving around the left side of his mouth. It only came out when he was genuinely smiling. Cassandra finally noticed her. She looked from Delta to Stanford. "Do you two know each other?" she asked uncertainly.

"No." Delta turned on her heel, marching as far away as she could. She wouldn't normally be bothered by it, except she didn't like Cassandra for always monopolizing Sasha's time. She hoped that Stanford wouldn't be reeled in by someone so high strung and needy, although she had literally just accused him of liking girls like Cassandra.

When it was finally time for the October photo shoot, Delta went out, intent on making a scene. She hadn't watched to find out how long Stanford had spent talking to Cassandra, or any of the other beautiful contestants, for that matter. She was paired with Tabitha, and a blonde girl named Brittany for the October photoshoot. A large plastic cauldron and some pumpkins had been pulled out in front of the camera. The girls went to work posing.

Delta climbed into the cauldron and sunk to her knees. She bent over it, letting her breasts fall over the side. Brittany held a witch's broomstick in her hand and pretended to spank Delta's bottom. She heard the office door open and looked over to see Stanford escorting one of the girls back out. He looked at Delta briefly and then looked away. The photographer had to remind her to smile.

When the three girls were done with their shoot, they were told that they were free to leave. Delta grabbed her bag in the back and was surprised to see that Sasha was still there, sitting on the floor, leaned back against a wall. "Hey." She stood when she saw Delta. "I waited on you." She leaned forward, into Delta and kissed her gently on the cheek. Warmth bloomed over Delta's cheek in the spot where Sasha's lips had touched her.

"Did you want to do something?" Delta checked her watch. It had already been a long day. Many of the contestants were already gone, so it wasn't like she needed to stay on the clock.

"Yeah. Why don't we go back to my place?"

Delta grabbed Sasha's hand, warm and soft. "That sounds great."

They arrived at the door the same time that Stanford and Harper did. Stanford smiled out of the side of his mouth at Delta. "Ladies first."

She brushed past him subtly jabbed her elbow into his ribs as she passed. She restrained herself from glancing back to see his reaction as she and Sasha walked to their cars. She was surprised to see that Sasha had turned around, though. "Do you know him?"

"What? No. Why?"

"No reason." Delta gave her a hard look. "Ok, no reason except he was staring at you the whole time. And he asked me about you."

Delta's heart skipped a beat. "What did you tell him?"

"Well, you were."

"Yeah." Sasha glanced at her phone. She sighed. "Hey, actually can we take a rain check? It's just it's already late. And I'm kind of tired. I'll see you at rehearsals."

"Sure," Delta nodded and opened the door of her car. She watched Sasha's retreating back with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

********* Chapter 9: The Pageant**********

Delta had arrived at the theater at exactly 11:00 AM, as instructed in her Miss Dixieland itinerary. All of the contestants had been treated to a brunch of croissants, eggs, berries, coffee, and tea. Many of the girls only picked at the food, too nervous to eat now that the day they had been waiting for had finally arrived. Delta had eaten four croissants and piled her plate high with the eggs and berries. She didn't want to risk being hungry later as her time to solve the case was ticking away. Chief Payne had given her until the end of the show to find out who the supplier and the distributors were and she didn't intend to fail. She stared out at the room of contestants as she ate, watching them closely.

After breakfast, they were shepherded through another rehearsal. Phil stood nervously nearby, fretting like a mother hen as lights and banners were hung. He walked across the stage several times to fiddle with the placement of the microphones, to line up the risers just so. He smiled in greeting at Delta but didn't have much time to talk as lines of event staff rotated around him with questions.

The rest of the judges were not expected to show up until later, but Delta would have been too busy to have followed them anyways. She was needed for mic checks, for photos, and for standing around the stage in her prescribed spot so that Phil could assure for one last time that the girls were arranged perfectly by height.

At 5 PM they were released from the main stage area to the back. They were expected to be backstage, dressed and ready by 6:50. Delta looked around her as the girls split in various locations, some heading for the showers, some sitting in front of the mirrors to begin working on their hair and makeup. Delta chose a spot and began her own primping. She had looked around but had not seen where Sasha had gone after they had been released from the stage. Her other friendly acquaintances had headed to the showers so she sat alone, getting ready.

Over an hour and a half had passed before she saw Sasha again. She had been talking to two of the other contestants, Brittany and Jenna, about the murder just to affirm that they didn't know anything. They had suddenly fallen silent, and Delta had turned to see Sasha, gorgeous in the scarlet cocktail dress she would be wearing for the opening portion of the pageant.

"Can we talk?"

Delta followed her away from the dressing room area, down a carpeted hallway that led towards the auditorium. There was no one around. The artificially yellow light of the hallway lamps bounced against the vinyl of the gold and ivory wallpaper. The light cocooned Sasha like a halo. She reached out for Delta's hand and caressed it in her own. The motion wafted over the scent of her perfume, something candy-sweet, but with an herbal, almost medicinal, undertone. "I wanted to apologize for the way I've been acting. I know I blew you off the other night after the photoshoot." She didn't add how she had abandoned Delta after the donor's party for Cassandra, or how she had been distant in her texts and had not returned Delta's few calls.

Delta waited, letting Sasha toy with her fingers, brushing them with her own rose-soft fingertips. Sasha looked at her for reassurance, and continued, "I've been spending a lot of time with Sandy... Cassandra. Things always get weird with me when I'm around her. It's hard to explain. She makes me feel like doing things I shouldn't do." She squeezed Delta's hand lightly.

Delta returned the squeeze, intoxicated by Sasha's nearness, and wrapped her long fingers around Sasha's shorter ones. "I know the feeling." It was so hard to focus on the investigation when Sasha was around.

Sasha graced her with a smile. "I should have told you this already, but we used to date."

"I know. Tabitha and Bree told me."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

Delta shrugged. "I guess you didn't owe me that information. I mean... Did either one of us ever expect this to be more than just a little fun?" Do I consider what's between us more than fun? She realized the answer was yes although she didn't know how it had turned out that way.

Sasha leaned closer to Delta and gently touched her face, tracing the contours of her jaw and cheekbones. One slim finger teased her lips. "Cassandra has been very controlling lately. She's been jealous... of you."

Delta closed her eyes against Sasha's mesmerizing touch and felt herself filled with a smug satisfaction. "Should she be?"

Sasha leaned in closer. Delta felt her cool breath on her cheek. "Yes." She felt Sasha's lips brush against her neck, over her gently thrumming artery. But then Sasha pulled away. "Just tell me one thing, though."

Delta opened her eyes and blinked Sasha into focus. "What?"

"Is it true that you're a cop?"

Delta's heart seized in her chest. She glanced down at her hand, now curled into a fist-pink fingernails gripping the midnight blue of her sequined dress. "What?" She hoped that Sasha could not see the signs of her panic in her body-that the same artery she had just kissed was not visibly pulsating in her neck, that there was no incriminating flush stealing up her chest.

Sasha spoke as if in a dream. "I thought it was weird that I couldn't find you anywhere online. I know some people don't like to have Facebook or whatever. But nothing? And then when that cop came to the photoshoot. I saw the way he looked at you. And the way you looked at him. And I thought... wouldn't it be just perfect if it turned out the woman I was falling for had been lying to me the whole time?"

"Sasha, don't be ridiculous. I'm not a cop. Look, it's true. I do know the police guy. He caught me... having sex in the woods with someone. It was awkward and we recognized each other and he antagonized me, but that's all." Delta grabbed her hand. "Please believe me."

Sasha looked uncertain, but didn't remove her hand. "I guess we'll see." She wrapped her fingers around Delta's and kissed her knuckles. An outline of her red lipstick remained. She looked up and at Delta's lips. "Either way, I'm not done with you yet." She caressed Delta's cheek. "Close your eyes."

Delta lowered her eyelids and heard a small rustling. She felt Sasha leaning in closer, and felt her warm lips blossom in a kiss against her cheek. Another careful kiss followed, this one a bit closer to her mouth, then another and another as Sasha led her small caravan of kisses towards Delta's lips. She felt her skin tingling with Sasha's nearness, the prickle of her breath against her cheek, and the feeling of her velvet mouth across her skin. Sasha finally reached her mouth, and Delta found her own lips parting as Sasha's slick tongue glided between them.

Sasha's tongue swirled in her mouth, all sweetness. Too sweet. Delta suddenly felt it. The small lump of the pill that Sasha had passed her. She opened her eyes in surprise, but Sasha was still kissing her, her tongue flitting in Delta's mouth, the smooth muscle pressing the pill against Delta's tongue. She tasted the bitterness of it now, the shell had dissolved. It was almost gone.

Delta coughed as Sasha finally ended the kiss. There was nothing left to cough out of her mouth. Sasha had made sure of that and she smiled at her. "Come find me later. When that kicks in.

Delta was at a loss, and could only nod and follow Sasha down the hall towards the backstage. She had just enough time to touch up her makeup and wipe away the traces of Sasha's kisses from her skin when Phil ran into the dressing rooms. "It's time! Line up!" The contestants scurried into their lines, awaiting their cues. Music swelled and Phil darted away onto the stage.

Delta twitched nervously in line, her heart beginning to beat far too quickly. It was the drugs, she knew, speeding up her system, although the shot of adrenaline from Sasha guessing her secret hadn't helped. She imagined she could feel the chemicals rushing through her blood, exciting her heart, tingling her nerves, settling somewhere in the deep cavities of her body, tightening her muscles. It felt a lot like arousal. She glanced at the lines of pretty girls around her, the smooth faces, the eyes glittering like insects, the glimmering dresses like shadows pierced with moonlight, highlighting and shaping the alluring curves of waists and breasts and throats and shoulders and arms that slipped like pale snakes from the cloth. She closed her eyes and gathered herself. It was time to go onstage.

It was like looking into the sun. The stage lights blurred in her eyes, but she kept her smile plastered on her face and let her body go through the motions. Line up, smile, wave, turn, pose, get back in line. The rehearsals had drilled the procedures into her brain and body. She didn't even have to think as she stepped through the motions of the opening dance number. She glanced out into the audience to see if she could spot Payne's promised plainclothes officers, but it was hard to see through the glare of the lights. There was a tall shadow leaning against a wall. She thought perhaps she recognized the tilt of the shoulders. Stanford, perhaps? Or just another shadow in the dark sea of faces?

Before she knew it, the first portion of the pageant was over and she and the other contestants were backstage, scrambling into their bikinis for their "sportswear" competition. Changing was difficult. Delta felt her mind wandering as she saw the flashes of naked skin while the girls around her changed. Her heart was still too fast. It was like all she could see were the thighs and nipples and breasts around her, isolated from the rest of the bodies, small islands of lust. She would give anything to see a naked man along with all of those women. She thought of Nick's chest in the lamplight and remembered that he was dead. Damn Sasha and damn the drugs, she thought, trying to clear her head of the clouds of desire.

Soon they were back on stage, parading in their heels and barely-there swimwear. Delta inwardly scoffed at the audacity of calling it "sportswear." She didn't play sports in heels. Really, she didn't play sports at all. She didn't like teamwork. Distracted again, she tried to calm herself against the tides of irritation and elation. It was time for the talent portion.

Delta was third. She shimmied into her cowgirl costume, which consisted of a very short fringed buckskin skirt, an off-the-shoulder white blouse that was held in place with a tightly laced denim vest, and a cowboy hat and boots. She also strapped a gun holster to her leg like a garter. The audience would love that. In no time at all, it seemed she was being rushed on stage for her act. The targets had been placed. One side of the backstage area had been cleared of crew and contestants to ensure their safety should a bullet go awry. Delta's hands were shaking. She hoped a bullet didn't go awry, but she hadn't planned on being under the effects of drugs for her performance.

The music played and Delta began a little dance as she toyed with drawing out her gun. The audience hooted and clapped as the country music played, cheering wildly as she teased them rolling her hips and flashing up her skirt while retrieving the gun. They cheered even more loudly as she whirled the weapon around her finger and tossed it behind her back. Her palms were beginning to sweat so much that she almost dropped it. Luckily, no one noticed.