Catfish Rides Again 2
By Bald Hairy Man
If you are offended by gay sex or are underage, DON'T read this story. This is a fantasy, not a sex manual. No effort to portray safe sex is made in this story. This story is part of an extended group of stories listed under Millennium Construction Company. If you have want to know more about the characters look it up. If you have comments write me at bldhrymn@excite.com or bldhrymn@yahoo.com
Aunt Edith wasn't a nice woman, but no one deserves what happened to her. Scooter got me out of the house as the Arson investigators arrived. The Arson group had two large RV type vehicles. One was a mobile lab and the other was an office, command-post unit. A police cruiser followed behind. The Police Chief and a patrol man were in the car. The Police chief was a loud and unpleasant man. Scooter told me the chief was named Willard Thompson. Thompson was mad at Scooter for calling in the Arson unit. Thompson didn't look at Scooter or me and went right to the Investigators from Roanoke.
"It's the damn Mexicans," he proclaimed. "They're stealing everything. They're just he kind of people to do this sort of thing."
"Were any Mexicans seen in the area before the fire?" the head investigator asked.
"Of course they were," Chief Thomson said. "They're everywhere."
There was a couple on the porch of the house next door watching the goings on. The man came over to Thompson and the investigator. "I'm Bob Smith, we live next door," he said. "There were no Mexicans in the area yesterday."
"How do you know that?" Thompson asked. He was puffed up and apparently thought he could intimidate the neighbor.
"Sally and I have been outside for most of the daylight hours for the last week," Mr. Smith said, not intimidated one bit. "We were working on our garden. This has been the only good weather we've had for a month. We saw no strangers in the neighborhood."
Scooter and I went over to the group. "Sir, I'm Scooter Jones, a member of the fire department," he said introducing himself to the head investigator. "This is Catfish Noland, a relative of the victim."
"Are you the guy who called me?" the Man asked of Scooter. Scooter nodded. "I'm Captain Donnan." We all shook hands except for Thompson. He didn't join in. Donnan looked at me. "Are you the guy from Richmond?" I nodded. He looked me over, taking a quick look at my basket. "You look just the way they say you do."
"Sorry about that," I replied. He laughed and then got down to business. Donnan knew his stuff. Scooter was a down home guy, but he gave a good report on the fire. It was simple, direct and consisted only of facts. He was a good observer. Thompson looked on, then turned and left.
"He's an opinionated man," Donnan said as the chief left.
"Asshole," Bob Smith said. "Chief Thompson is an asshole."
"I don't think robbery was the motive," Scooter said. "Catfish found a severed hand in the bedroom. The rings were still on it."
"How big?" Donnan asked.
"I remember when Uncle Edgar gave it to her for their 40th wedding anniversary," I said. "It caused quite a stir. They said it was two and a half or three carats."
"Was that the ring you saw?" Donnan asked.
"I think so. It was hard to look," I said. Another attack of nausea came over me. I must have turned green, everyone looked concerned, but I didn't toss my cookies.
Donnan got our phone numbers and asked if we would be available later in the day. We were. Scooter and I went back to the farm. "Thank God Mom and my Aunts weren't there," I said. "That would have been awful if they saw the hand."
"How does Captain Donnan know you?" Scooter asked. I told him about my business in Richmond.
"I know some guys in the Arson Squad there," I said. " I guess the word spread."
"Was he checking you out?" Scooter asked. "How well do you know those guys on the Arson Squad?"
I smiled. "I know one or two really well. You may not believe this, but I'm a good guy to have on an investigation. I'm both helpful and fun to have around."
"I can see that," Scooter said as we drove up to the house. I hadn't focused on the house the night before, but it was handsome, almost a mansion. It was well maintained and in beautiful shape, surrounded by well-tended gardens. The Buick was there with two other cars.
Inside were my Mom, my Aunts and a minister, the Rev. Mr. John Pettigrew, A second man was dressed like an undertaker. He was an undertaker, Mr. William Graves. Graves looked very somber, but was young and turned out to be a friend of Scooter.
"Your sister was getting ready to join St. John's," Pettigrew said. "I talked with her many times. After her husband died, she seemed to have tried out several local churches, mostly obscure ones. She told me she had been foolish and unkind. She wanted to make peace with God. I told her, she needed to make peace with the people she had offended on earth before she went after God."
"Did she take that well?" Mom asked.
Pettigrew smiled. "Not one bit. She got up and stomped out. Edith came back a week later. She had seen the light," the minister said. "I think she was trying to turn over a new leaf." I couldn't help thinking it was about time, but I kept my mouth closed.
There was no word when we would get Edith's body back from the Medical Examiner, so all the arrangements had to be tentative until we could set a date and a time. I went to the kitchen to help Scooter's mother and Graves followed me.
"Your family seems good about this," he said. "Are they as good as they seem?"
"I think so, they are a hardy group," I said, "but I'd keep them out of the house until they have it fully investigated and cleaned up. No open coffin."
Graves leaned near me. "I'm a member of the volunteer fire department and I heard about the hand," he whispered. "They'll hear nothing about the body from me." Undertakers aren't too high on my list of professions, but Graves was genuinely helpful. He knew the ropes and knew what to do to make things simpler.
Someone knocked on the door. It was a man named Byron Wampler who was Edith's lawyer. I noticed Elizabeth and Scooter were noticeably cooler to Byron than they were to Pettigrew and Graves. My mother noticed that too and the conversation became more restrained. Wampler said she had a will, but it was in a constant state of flux, depending on who she was feuding with at the time. She had a safety deposit box, and the will should be there.
Since Wampler had power of attorney, he had access to the box. He offered to take Mom and my Aunts to the bank. They left with him in his big Mercedes. I left, so I could make some calls to my office. Scooter had to go and deal with the cows.
We were walking away from the house when it struck me. There were no state troopers investigating the death. I asked Scooter about that.
"That's Willard Thompson contribution to the problem. He has to call them in and he won't do it. As you saw, he thinks it's Mexicans," Scooter said. "He's really mad that I called the Arson team. That's why he was so rude. Willard likes to solve problems himself, or sweep them under the table."
"This is a big problem to sweep away," I remarked.
"Willard's been here 40 years. He's lazy, but worse than that, he thinks he owns the town," Scooter explained.
"Boss Hogg style?"
"You got it. Most of the time crime here is open and shut. You know, man kill his wife because she was messing around, hunting accidents, that sort of thing," Scooter continued. "This is different, but I'm sure Willard doesn't know it." Scooter went off to see his cows and I returned to the double-wide.
I called my office and all was well there. Richmond's criminal classes were taking a rare break. I told my right had man, Frank, about the situation in Wythetown. He said he'd get our internet Greek squad looking around. We had a group of retirees who liked to do research on line. Several were retired policemen who still had connections in the force.
When I hung up, my cell phone rang immediately. It was Donnan. He wanted to chat. He asked if I could get by that evening at ten. "I don't want everyone to see who's coming and going," he explained.
"Do you want Scooter too?" I asked.
"He seems bright," Donnan said. "Is that the way you see it?"
"Unexpectedly professional," I replied. I then told him we would be there at 10:00. We had dinner at the house with Elizabeth and Scooter. It was a small town and neighbors had been dropping off food. After dinner, Scooter and I went into town.
We stopped at the Graves Funeral Home and spoke to Scooter's friend. Out of his undertakers clothes, he was Billy, not William and he was a laid back country boy. He lived in a converted garage behind the funeral home. It was his family's business, but his parents had moved into a modern house on the other side of town.
The garage was nice. We had a beer and chatted. Billy was up on all the gossip in town. Edith wasn't a popular woman, and a significant portion of the residents had threatened to kill her at one time or another. Her horrible death shocked everyone and Billy though we'd have a good turn out at the funeral. "The combination of guilt and curiosity should give you a good crowd," Billy said. "That's the way it is here. By the way, the word is out that your Mom and Aunts are good people."
"Any word about me?" I asked.
"Too scrawny and ugly to get married, but a good son, is the way they see it," Billy said. Billy was on the beefy side and I had the feeling scrawny wasn't an asset in his mind.
"That's the way I like it," I said. "I like to fade into the woodwork." There was a little tension in the air. It took me a while to realize Scooter and Billy were playmates. It was a two's company, three's a crowd situation. I suggested that I'd go on a walk to get the lay of the land. Poor Billy looked relieved. I left and said I'd be back in an hour.
Wythetown wasn't big and wasn't prosperous. There were two banks, several barbershops, a Sears catalog store and a few discount shops. The diner was the only business that was open. I went in and ordered a cup of coffee. I was the only customer. The waitress was an older woman who was tired and mean.
"May, why don't you go home? I'll take care of things," a big man yelled from the kitchen. "I'll close up too." The woman took off her apron, grabbed her purse and left.
A big bearded man appeared at the kitchen door. "Sorry about May. One of the other waitresses didn't show," he said.
"I'll drink up fast and get out," I said.
"No need to do that. I'll give you another cup of coffee if you stay and talk to me as I clean up the counter," he said. "Andy Andravianian is the name." We shook hands.
"Catfish Noland here," I said. "I'm here for a funeral. My Aunt burned up two days ago."
"Is that the poor woman on Elm Street?"he asked. I nodded. "Nasty business." We chatted for a while. Andy was a big man, wearing a white tee shirt. Tufts of hair made a fringe around his neck and he had arms that would make a gorilla proud. He had heard quite a bit about Edith's death, but not much of it was true. The local gossip was fast, but not very accurate.
I could see a young man walking by the dinner in the mirror behind the counter. He walked by several times. He seemed nervous and I was just about to get suspicious when he pulled on a mask and pulled out a gun. A second later he was in the diner, "Empty the cash register!" he demanded. "Hands up!"
Andy looked shocked and walked slowly toward the cash register. I just sat there. Apparently the man didn't think I was worth worrying about. I was actually a little miffed. I'm small, but I'm not that small. The robber was shaking in a way I associated with drug problems. Andy opened the register and took the money out.
"Is that all?" the robber screamed. "I need more!" He cocked the pistol. I jumped him. He was totally surprised and I had the pistol out of his hand and in mine. He was a big guy and I had to get him under my control before he recovered his senses enough to fight back.
I didn't need to worry. As soon as I got the gun, Andy beaned the guy with an iron frying pan. I heard a siren. Andy must have pushed a silent alarm.
"You're good at that," Andy said. "That scumbag had me worried." He looked at me closely. "That wasn't the first time you've done that, was it?"
"I've had some law enforcement experience," I said. The police were here by now. The would-be robber was known to the troopers and they carried him off and said they'd get our statements the next day. They were gone in ten minutes.
"Very efficient," I said.
"I need a drink," Andy said. " Care to join me for a drink? I live upstairs." I said sure.
We went through the kitchen and up the stairs. The apartment was hot as hell. "Shit, I forgot to turn on the air conditioning!" Andy exclaimed. He flipped a switch. "It will be better in a minute," he added as he stripped off his shirt. "Let me get a clean shirt."
"No need on my account," I said. "You're in good shape. I don't mind." Andy went to the kitchenette and got drinks.
"I work out some," he said. "Working in a kitchen is filled with temptation. Everyone in my family tends to be heavy." Andy flexed his arms and then I felt his rock hard pecs.
"Nice and furry," I said as I tweaked his nipples. He sighed. A few seconds later we were both naked on the floor going at it like dogs in heat.
At first I thought Andy had almost no cock. It was lost somewhere in the jungle of hair of his crotch. He turned out to be a grower, not a shower. One he got excited, the cock turned into a solid six by six. When my finger strayed toward his ass hole, he began to leak. When I found his hole and pressed my finger into it, his cock exploded and I was drinking a week or two's supply of cum.
"Sorry about that," Andy said. "You got a bid dose of Armenian high test." He looked at me. I smiled and he saw I still had some cum in my mouth. He kissed me and we shared his man seed. This got him going again and I felt cum splatter against my gut as he shot off again.
"We got to do this again," I said, "but I've got to get back to see a friend at ten."
"I own you one," Andy said. "I don't usually shoot off so fast. I don't know what got into me."
"I'll just take that as a compliment," I said. "Maybe I'm not everyone's ideal of a dreamboat, but I do hit the spot sometimes."
"Are you gay?" Andy asked.
"I sure as hell am," I said, then I asked, "Are you?"
"I don't think so," Andy replied after a brief hesitation. "I like sex a lot, and I really enjoyed you." We said good bye and I went to Grave's house. Scooter was waiting for me and we drove to Donnan's RV parked beside Aunt Edith's house.
Donnan was alone. The Rv was dark with no lights on. "Come in guys," he said. "I need some back ground." Scooter repeated his narrative of the fire and added some information on possible suspects. They were few and far between. I gave him a quick biography of Aunt Edith. I went through her attraction to radical "Christian" groups.
"Did she have money?" Donnan asked.
"Not money with a capital M, but she was well off. Her husband did well in business and I don't think they spent a penny," I said. "My Mom and Aunts went to the bank this afternoon, but they didn't say anything."
"Nothing exceptional?" Donnan asked.
"I'll ask. Mom and her sisters don't talk about money."
"A sign of bad breeding?" Donnan suggested.
Scooter laughed. "Just like my Mom," he said. "She'd never talk about money outside the family. It was the sort of thing you might whisper about after the kids were in bed, but never in public."
Donnan said it was arson, as we knew and very crude arson. "There's nothing professional about the event," he said. "It was crudely done and ineffectual. It made a mess rather than real damage. I sent my field man back to Roanoke to get things tested. It's just a formality, it's open and shut."
We talked for a while. Scooter had to take a piss, and I was alone with Donnan. "Are you the Catfish who's a good friend of Fire Hose?" he whispered. Fire Hose was a well-hung friend of mine in Richmond. His nick name described his cock.
"As a matter of fact I am," I said. "He's an old and playful friend."
"I'd like to . . . let's say get to know you better," Donnan whispered. He was glancing at the toilet room door down the hall of the RV.
"Scooter's a member of the Fraternity," I said. "He's okay. Are you offended by a threesome?"
"Shit no," he replied instantly. "There's a cot in the back room."
Donnan was a sucker. That was good for me since Andy hard revved me up and I was ready for more fun. When Scooter got out of the toilet, he called, "Where are you guys?" I called to him and said we were relaxing. He joined us.
Donnan was a big man, but a bit over weight. He didn't want to undress. I told him I liked my sex naked. It was dark, so he did it. I was sitting on the cot as he sucked me. Scooter got behind him and rubbed his cock in the ass crack. Donnan didn't object. He couldn't get much of my cock into his mouth, but he enjoyed it as it grew. He liked size and I had what he wanted.
Scooter was rimming him now and spitting into the hole. Donnan adjusted his position, so Scooter would have better access. I've never thought spit was a particularly good lubricant, but I seemed to work for Scooter and more importantly for Donnan. He shivered when the head cleared the sphincter, but just moaned and twitched as Scooter cock probed deeply into his ass.
Once Scooter was fully lodged, Donnan resumed his sucking activities. Scooter started slowly, then built up speed. He suddenly slowed down.
"I can go fast if you want to give Catfish a try, or I can slow down and take my time?" Scooter asked. "What's your poison?"
"I wouldn't mind trying Catfish's cock," Donnan whispered. But before we could change positions, Scooter cried out. "There's someone in the house!" He was standing and could see out the window of the RV. Wythetown seemed to be filled with potential playmates, but somehow my balls were still filled and needed draining. We got dressed and went after the prowler.