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“We know Martha and Felicia were into S&M scenes. Did that make you jealous?”
“Oh no, not really. Martha is wonderful to me,” Remy’s eyes brightened. “She’s taken care of me since Brightwood. I don’t know how I could have done anything without her help – my job, my sanity, everything. I’m so much stronger because of her.”
“You jealous of her attention to Felicia?”
“I can’t do those things, and she enjoys it,” Remy explained.
“That posed no problem in your relationship?”
“No, not really,” Remy answered with a firm denial.
“You knew Zelda from Brightwood, too,” Robin moved on.
“Yes. A long time ago.”
“But you must have stayed in contact with the woman for her to come here several years later?”
“She was very sweet to me at the hospital, the first friendly face I remember, just that face, those lovely eyes, she does have lovely eyes, don’t you think?” Remy’s eyes looked faraway and she seemed more agitated the more she talked.
“Yes, she does have lovely eyes,” Robin agreed, wondering if she could take much more. No wonder why Martha didn’t want her talking. “So you must have written each other regularly?”
“Not really…” She thought back, “until recently. But I was very excited when she wrote me. Then she called. She was one of the best friends that I’ve ever had. She and Martha both.”
“Were you two ever lovers, you and Zelda?”
“Oh no! I was a patient, she was an aide, you didn’t do those sort of things with the staff.”
“But your relationship with Martha?”
Remy smiled confused, the expression on her face troubled. “But Martha’s different…” Her dreamy eyes drifted off again.
“How is she different?”
“She loved me, she’s given up so much for me, and I’m so grateful.” There was a singsong sadness in her voice; you almost thought she’d float away. Maybe she’d learned enough.
***
From a first floor window, Martha looked out seeing the three women in the garden.
“Damn! Those detectives,” she voiced aloud, meanwhile Zelda sidled up to her, putting her arms around her middle.
“You’re scared of what she’ll say?”
“Damn right, I am. Remy’s still not right. Those women will twist her words, assume all the wrong things from her confusion.”
“But you don’t believe she killed Felicia, do you?” Zelda asked. “I wouldn’t worry, she’ll only tie her tongue in knots the way she usually does. What on earth would she say?”
“She didn’t kill her,” Martha insisted.
“Of course, she didn’t,” Zelda said, although there was some hesitancy in Zelda’s voice. “I still think it was Betsy, unless it was Jane. But I wouldn’t worry about Remy. She’s more savvy than you give her credit for. You worry too much.” Zelda felt up Martha’s breasts through her shirt, her fingers moving for her nipples, which seemed to grow instantly hard with a teasing squeeze. “You suppose, maybe,” she purred in Martha’s ear, “since we have a few minutes alone, we could… you know?” She rubbed her body against Martha’s like a seductive cat.
While enjoying the playful massage, Martha continued to peer out the window every few seconds, distracted by what was going on outside. “I don’t know, I’m not up to spanking you, Zelda. I need to lie back and relax. The tension of this is sometimes more than I can handle. Keeping Remy together, it’s so hard.” She sighed, settling back into Zelda’s comforting body.
“I know, but you do it very well. Remy’s so lucky to have you. You were really all she wrote about in her letters.” She kissed her gently on the back of her neck. “But now that she’s so occupied, you can take some time for yourself. Maybe turn the tables?” she suggested.
Martha’s eyes un-focused now, as she listened closely to the woman behind her. “You do that? I mean, you’d be the aggressor?”
“Sometimes. With the right person. I’ve never been one for all this silly Dom and sub protocol.”
