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Taking Chances, by E. L. Van Hine and L.H. Nicoll
MaineWriter:
Hello re-readers,
I am a little late today. Sorry! Our assignment...chapters 11-15:
http://louisev.livejournal.com/78329.html
Ennis broke the kiss suddenly by throwing his head back, panting, and a low growl rose from his open mouth, and he arched his back, thrusting up and through Ellery’s pumping hand, a jet of come erupting between the long fingers. He sank back onto the mattress, shuddering.
“Hmmm... you liked that, boy,” Ellery said, gathering up the warm come in his hand and raising it to his mouth. Keeping his eyes on Ennis’s face, he licked his hand methodically.
“Oh.. yeah.”
Ellery let his tongue flicker over his fingers, lapping up his lover’s sticky fluid. “Ya taste good, even all banged up.”
Ennis shuddered again, his eyes riveted to Ellery’s licking tongue. “Ya drive me crazy when ya do that.”
MaineWriter:
Chapter 12:
“You okay, boy?” Wes asked Dupree.
Dupree smiled and nodded. “Aside from getting kicked in the chest. But damn I think that thing held at two yards or somethin, Sheriff.”
“It should, I paid enough for it.” Wes fixed his eye on Ellery who had exchanged the forceps for an evidence bag and bagged the bullet. “You wearin yer armor, Ellery?”
“You bet, Sheriff.”
“You take it off today?”
“Only when I was sleepin an makin love, Sheriff,” he smiled, not looking at Ennis. Ennis stepped back, blushing dark red, and looked around quickly, but all eyes were on Dupree and Ellery.
“Good. Now let’s get Ennis inside an get a vest on em. I take it you boys got it figured that the shooter mistook Dupree for Ellery.”
“Pretty much,” Ellery said.
“He couldn’t a got a good look at me.”
“Yer pretty well built though Dupree, whowever it is must not know Ellery very well if they mistake some big muscled guy for a skinny one. Come on Ennis. Ellery you come too, let the doctors do their job. Taylor, you go with Dupree, make sure he gets home safe.”
“Sure Wes,” Ellery replied. “Don’t have ta pick me up tomorrow Dupree.” Taylor climbed in after the stretcher in the back of the ambulance. “Hey, Chief, take my report here.”
Ellery took his notebook. “Thanks a lot Taylor,” flipped it closed and pocketed it. “Don’t molest any nurses, Dupree,” and he followed Ennis and Wes inside.
MaineWriter:
A brief aside...
As we can all see, Wes takes the issue of body armor very seriously. To get the men at the station to wear their body armor, Wes taped this picture up in the locker room:
He had a special picture for Ellery:
L
MaineWriter:
Interesting development in chapter 13:
Ellery blinked slowly. “Please don’t tell me there was another shootin.”
“There was another shootin. An squeezed into my already impossible schedule today is a 10 a.m. meetin with the press an the mayor an I need you ta give a status report on the recent shootins.”
“We ain’t got a status on Allen. We got no leads.”
“Well we ain’t gonna say that are we? We are gonna say we have a witness, a description, an artist’s sketch, an are interviewin more witnesses in the next twenty four ta forty eight hours.”
“That sounds better. You mean Allen’s wife? And we don’t know these are connected. Where was the latest shootin?”
“Outside yer bar.”
“The bar was closed, Wes.”
“It was outside yer bar. I guess ya had a customer thought it was open an somebody shot em.”
“Fatality?”
“Peculiarly, no. Maybe somethin spoiled his aim, but it caught em in the shoulder an the victim managed ta flee an call 911.”
“Okay so he’s at Ivinson. I get this one too I imagine.”
“Yup. An you better keep the bar closed.” Wes slid the incident report across his desk, frowning. Ellery stared at it, dropping the report. It drifted with a current of air and landed squarely back in front of Wes.
“Wes... that’s Wayne Bryce.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“I got ta go see em.”
MaineWriter:
For Marie who loves minutia, find out how much Ellery actually weighs...chapter 13
“Good mornin everyone,” Jeremy Dupree walked in, arm in a sling, bandaged to his uniform shirt. Trailing him was a considerably cleaner and happier-looking Brad Sevigny.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Ellery said. “We was just sharin Joe’s bakery bounty, today’s special is corn muffins.”
“Love one,” Sevigny said, diving for the box. “Got coffee ta go with this?”
Jones came over to the bakery box, looked in. “I’ll try but... why not him?”
Ellery looked where Jones pointed. “Hm, six feet tall, dark hair.... Sevigny’s too skinny. They throw out cases if the lineup has the suspect bein two hundred twenty pounds and all the ringers are ninety pound weaklings, Jones.”
“Hey. I’m a hundred an eighty five,” Sevigny objected, biting into a muffin.
“You got buckshot in your pockets or somethin? You are not,” Ellery said.
Sevigny chuckled. “Well lemme see, yer what, six three? You got ta be... one sixty five.”
“With buckshot in my pockets. I never tipped the scales at one fifty, boy.”
“Damn,” Sevigny looked chagrined by his error.
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