The Big Witness (A Dragnet Fan Fiction Story) -- Chapter Eight

 The Big Witness

(A Dragnet Fan Fiction Story)

By: Kristi N. Zanker

Disclaimer: All publicly recognized characters, settings, etc. are the property of Mark VII Limited and Universal. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. I, in no way am associated with the owners, creators, or producers of Dragnet. No copyright infringement is intended.

Warning: This chapter contains mild language and sexual situations.

Chapter Eight

The kitchen looked as it had when Joe and Dorothy arrived at 4656 Collis Avenue seven hours earlier, only it was fastidiously immaculate now. While he submerged himself in the bath, she had tidied up the countertops making sure there weren't any miscellaneous traces of glass in the corners or crevices. It was after midnight as Joe came into the kitchen feeling rejuvenated albeit dog-tired from his latest tribulation. Clad in a fresh pair of yellow pajamas, he abetted Dorothy with guiding the refrigerator back to its original space. She had washed the floor where it stood and went over the rest of the linoleum one more time before setting the mop out on the service porch to dry.

Joe eased under the covers, pulling the sheets almost entirely over his head. As he lay on his right side, hair fell over his eyes but he didn't care. He just shut them for a moment while Dorothy did her nightly routine in the bathroom. He must've dozed off because the next thing Joe knew, she was right beside him, gradually brushing the hair off his face with her fingers. The room was dark. He was sure he'd fallen asleep with the light still on.

"Hi, Joe," she said softly, kissing his forehead.

"Hi, Dot," he said as he rolled over on his back and sighed. "How long have I been out?"

"I've only been in here a few minutes. I didn't mean to wake you. You look so peaceful sleeping."

"Oh," he said, giving a slight chuckle. "That fits you much better than my pajamas."

He tugged on the light blue floral rayon sleeve of the nightgown before his fingers glided down the plunging neckline, over her breast where the pleats of the material were gathered. He knew absolutely nothing about women's fashion for he couldn't understand as to why skirts and dresses were longer the year before and a few inches shorter this year. What he did know was that he enjoyed the look and feel of the plunging neckline on her.

"Your hands okay?" She took the one that played with her breast and kissed the areas where the glass had perforated the skin.

"Yeah, they're okay," he said, as she took the other and repeated the gesture.

"Where did you get this I.D. bracelet?" Dorothy positioned the sterling silver bracelet so that the nameplate was on top of his wrist.

"My mother gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday. I guess she thought I'd forget my name or something," he smirked, pulling her toward him to kiss her.

Now she rested her head on Joe's shoulder, lazily fumbling with the buttons of his pajama top, slowly undoing one, then the other.

"Where did you get this?" Dorothy asked pulling the chain that secured his St. Christopher medal.

"Got that when I was confirmed," he replied, as she tucked it beneath his top.

"I noticed you always wear those." She snuggled closer to him as the room fell silent.

A light drizzle sounded at the window and Joe groaned in disgust. "I hope it doesn't rain too hard. The lawn needs to be moved tomorrow. It really needs it. At least Ma's flowers will be watered now."

He became quiet again, lost in thought.

"I'm sorry you had to see what happened earlier," he said, kissing her forehead while his left hand aimlessly twirled locks of her hair around his fingers. "I don't always have those spells, but lately—"

"It's okay, Joe," she said, giving him a light kiss.

"No, it isn't. But thank you for calling Ben." His hand now moved around her back as he brought her closer to where she was nearly on top of him. His left hand idly meandered at the curve of her hip before resting there.

"He was the first person I thought of. Ben sure surprised me though. I had no idea he had been in the First World War." She took his right hand from where it lay and gently caressed his fingers.

"Neither did I until last week on our trip to Vegas."

"Your mother told me before you got home that sometimes the war still bothered you, but you didn't talk about it much."

"Oooh, I knew she said something when you were over for dinner!" He untangled his hands, the all-too-familiarity of discomfiture arising, and rolled over on his left side so that his back was to her. "I overheard the end of that conversation—"

"She didn't give any details." Dorothy pressed herself against him and put her arm around his waist, kissing his neck.

"Well, that's a relief, but you've seen it for yourself." He faced her now.

"I'm still here, Joe," she said, kissing him while running her hand through his hair before giving him a big hug.

"I don't know what I would've done without you and Ben here tonight," he whispered into her hair, still holding her tight. "I've never told anyone about what happened to Zan."

"I guess a part of you wanted to forget. But you can't," she said as he pulled away from her rolling over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

'No. No matter how hard I try—I can't."

While still stretched out on her left side, Dorothy cuddled closer, pressing her body against his.

"I'm sure you felt like one of the witnesses you interview."

"What?" He turned his head, giving a puzzled expression.

"They don't want to recall those gruesome details any more than you wanted to bring up Zan's death. But they have to in order for the case to move forward. Maybe it's the same for you. You've kept Zan and his death inside all this time, but tonight, you told us what you witnessed. It's not easy for those people to recount their actions upon discovering their spouse or child had been murdered."

"Hell, no….," his voice trailed off and then continued. "Ben did say that with time, these instances will fade. I hope he's right."

"I'm sure he's right. He's older and has been through it, too."

"Yeah."

The rain sprinkled steadily as the two of them embraced in the darkened room. The illuminous hands of the clock spun to one-thirty in the morning. Both felt grateful for having this day off, that is, if the phone didn't ring. They wouldn't be disrupted by the piercing shriek of the alarm at six as Joe was nearly every morning lately since his continuation on day watch. He let Dorothy know how thankful he felt to have her remain here after the night's circumstances—seeing him at his worst. She told him he shouldn't be alone right now and he, in turn, didn't want to be.

The caressing and gentle kissing became more intensified as Joe's hands drifted underneath her gown, meandering up her leg until he felt the enticing moistness. He always loved to get the girl "ready" as he did now by making her crave desire. Joe could never understand the intricacies of a woman and wouldn't begin to try, but he knew it took them longer and he savored every minute of it.

"Joe, wait…" she said.

"Hmmm… What is it?" His voice was husky.

"Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back," she intoned and slithered out of bed heading toward the bathroom.

"I couldn't move even if I wanted to," he sighed, hearing her laughter as the bathroom door shut.

He hadn't expected her to halt their passion, but soon realized that she had stopped for a very good reason. Earlier Dorothy told him about how she utilized four different drugstores around the city to obtain a diaphragm. Getting the spermicide jelly was easier. After all, she was going to be married and wanted to be prepared for everything instead of being careless in those trying days of the war. Since she was only engaged at the time, she didn't feel comfortable visiting her doctor. So, the only way Dorothy could get such an item was by hoping the fit was right. The fourth time it was. Luckily, she had saved enough from her allotment pay with the WACs because a diaphragm was quite expensive—around six dollars each time.

He settled down a little and sat on the edge of the bed. Dorothy returned, leaving the light off, carrying a bath towel. Joe stood up and took it from her, laying it across the sheets. She slightly pushed him on the bed. As she went to undo the rest of the buttons on his pajama top, he crushed her to him only to briefly pause their torrid osculation in order to remove and discard her nightgown. Before shedding his own pajamas, he kissed her belly as her fingers wove gingerly through his hair while responding with quiet laughter and the pulling of his thick head of curls as stimulation and longing continued to ignite. He moaned softly as he trailed upward to her breasts, suckling each as his hands cupped her bottom and made their way to rub her back. Joe kissed his way to her collarbone, then finally stood up, wrapping his arms around her waist, with Dorothy's around his neck. They were locked together in a deep embrace, this time momentarily stopping to remove his pajamas.

It was then Joe became masterful by friskily pushing her onto the bed while she sighed and giggled with pure ecstasy. Sliding in bed beside her, he murmured, "I'm not finished with you yet!" He ardently kissed her lips, moving to her neck as his fingers expertly pursued her. A gratifying cry escaped as he felt the warmth of her beguiling flesh, increasing her whimpers all the while carefully rubbing and circling until Joe felt her body quiver.

Not a moment was lost as he hastily infiltrated her, thrusting steadily as his breathing quickened. The bedsprings continued to protest and crunch beneath them as his prodding sped up. The St. Christopher medal swung back and forth as if it were a hypnotist's medallion. Dorothy clasped her legs around his waist, dug her fingers into his back, and moved with him until he gave a satisfactory groan and fell on top of her.

As their breathing returned to normal, they snuggled for a bit until Joe sat up and offered Dorothy a Fatima. She gladly obliged as he lit both cigarettes, passing one to her.

"What are we going to do, Dot?" he asked after exhaling, holding the cigarette between his index and middle fingers.

"About what?"

"I won't have the house to myself too much longer."

"I know."

"Any word on an apartment?"

"Nope, not yet. We could go to a hotel after work or on our next day off."

"No, that sounds so seedy."

"Then, we'll just have to be patient or be creative."

"Yeah, whichever comes first."

Joe awoke around nine to the sound of the washing machine agitator. Looks like she got it working, he thought as he stumbled out of bed to begin his morning ritual. No dreams last night. Inside, he still felt disgraceful about what had befallen last night in front of Dorothy and Ben. He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt for his inappropriate actions, but on the other hand, what had been bothering him finally came out and in front of the right people. You knew who your true friends were when one was in dire straits. At least the entire night wasn't ruined. Part of it had been so enthralling not to mention tantalizing. After they'd finished their cigarettes, the two of them took a shower together. Once in their pajamas for the second time that night, they fell asleep in each other's arms. He hadn't even felt Dorothy slip out of bed earlier.

Dressed in a green and white striped button-down shirt with khaki slacks, he wandered into the kitchen to find Dorothy in a mauve colored floral printed housedress cleaning out the icebox. It was completely empty, except for two milk bottles that stood on the counter.

"Just wanted to make sure there wasn't any glass in here," she said, turning to him as he knelt to kiss her good morning.

"I have to go to the May Company and get some new refrigerator dishes," he said, standing up.

"And slippers," she said, as she took his hand to help her up.

"I already have slippers."

"Not anymore. You ruined them last night."

"Are those from this morning?" he said, pointing to the milk bottles.

"Yes, I brought them in when I woke up at eight," Dorothy said as she took the milk and placed the bottles in the refrigerator before closing the door.

"If it were up to me, they would've spoiled. I don't know what I'd do without you," he gave a slight grin and gently kissed her.

"How are your hands today?" she inquired, holding them.

"Oh, they're fine, I guess. Thanks to you and that iodine."

"Later on we'll go to the May Company and then head over to Ralph's Market and do some grocery shopping."

"I hope Ma won't notice that those dishes will be new."

"She won't. We'll wash them before we put them away."

After a breakfast of strong black coffee, poached eggs, and toast, Joe hauled out the mower and the grass basket from the garage. After attaching the grass basket, he pulled it behind him until he reached the area where the empty clothesline stood. He decided to begin here since Dorothy would fill the line soon and by doing so he wouldn't get remnants of grass all over his clean clothes.

As he began to walk the mower around the backyard a second time, he saw Dorothy emerge from the back door with a wicker basket. He watched as she used the clothespins to hold up the shirts, undershorts, t-shirts, and handkerchiefs. He waved to her and she returned the greeting.

It was a warm morning, so it wouldn't take all day for a laundry load to dry. As he mowed the front yard, Joe suddenly remembered he had to pick up his suits downtown where he had dropped them off at the Chinese laundry yesterday. They could do that later while running their other errands. He began to think about the next day, not only was it going to be a long one, but it was the day of the big dinner date at the Flowers' residence. He hoped he and Ben would be able to have their dinner beforehand, if the two of them weren't bogged down with paperwork and other cases. He hoped it would go well tomorrow and get some honest results.

After bounding up the steps onto the service porch, a pile of dark clothing awaited to be washed and wrung out, along with the towels and bed sheets. Dorothy was doing the breakfast dishes. Joe went around the house emptying all of the ashtrays and wastebaskets. In his bedroom, he took the bottle of whiskey from the shelf in the closet and poured the little that remained in the bathroom sink. After last night, he hoped he wouldn't need it again.

He found Dorothy now removing the light load from the clothesline. The other load had been tossed in. I can hardly hear myself think with that damned thing going. With two more loads, it was going to be like that all day! Joe decided now would be the best time to run to the store. He told Dorothy of his plans as they both carried in everything from the line. It was still damp, but this was good for the ironing. You wouldn't have to sprinkle water on the fabric then. By tomorrow morning, everything would be dry, pressed, and ready to wear.

Joe's first stop was to collect his dry cleaned suits down the street from the City Hall. He would've chosen somewhere closer to the house, but at the time he was unaware of this day off. Since he was downtown already, Joe made his way onto Wilshire Boulevard and parked in the lot of the May Company.

Two kids were playing with the revolving door running to see how fast they could make it turn. The mother appeared and scolded the children. They ran after her and left the door still for Joe. He thought about getting a little gift for Dorothy for all of her help, but he wasn't sure what to buy for her. She already had perfume. He would have to ask her subtly how much she had left. That was an idea for the future. Another nightgown seemed too personal right now, despite their relationship going up a notch. He wasn't sure what kind of jewelry she liked. Bath salts could be good, but he wasn't sure if she could enjoy them at the boarding house with other tenants waiting to use the bathroom. She could use them tonight. We can take a bath together. We haven't done that yet…only showers. The idea and thought of last night's romantic ordeal fizzled as he approached a floorwalker and asked where the slippers were located.

In the Men's Wear section on the third floor, Joe spotted another floorwalker and asked where he could fine the slippers. The sharply dressed man with the carnation in the buttonhole of his lapel showed him and he selected the same pair he had before.

While paying for these, he asked the clerk which floor the Kitchenware was on and after grabbing his sales slip off of the counter, Joe raced to the elevators, instructing the operator to take it up to the fifth floor. A saleslady helped him select the Anchor Hocking "FireKing" line of refrigerator dishes. The box was quite heavy, but Joe managed to make it out to his car without dropping anything.

Stopping at a Ralph's Market nearest to the house, he bought the essentials—butter, eggs, and bread, along with a three pound ham, pork roast, and splurged on a steak. He figured it would be enough at least for the rest of the week until his mother returned to do the usual shopping. He despised grocery shopping, although couldn't help smiling at the domestic scene at the house earlier with him mowing the lawn and Dorothy at the clothesline. He wondered if this is what it was like to be married. It was the good part anyway—one of them.

In the driveway, as he exited his car, he could see Dorothy with her back to him at the clothesline hanging up the second load of washing. Before bringing anything into the house, he snuck up behind her and kissed her cheek, startling her.

"Just wanted to let you know I was back," he said, beaming, glad that the shopping excursion was over.

"I want to see what you bought," she said, lightly kissing him.

"Oh, you can do better than that," he replied, as he grabbed her waist, pulled her to him and kissed her hard—but not for long.

"Joe, you're so amorous!" Dorothy said, smiling as she pulled away from the embrace.

"Let's take a little break," he said, nuzzling her neck.

"Not now. We have a lot to do today."

"Oh," he pouted, his hands kneading her upper back and shoulders while hers clasped around his waist. "I always hated when teachers at school would say that. And I don't like hearing that from you, either."

They went to the car and she helped him carry everything into the house. Joe hung the three suits in his closet and set the slippers on the floor with his other shoes while Dorothy put away the groceries. She washed the new dishes and Joe dried them, placing each in the cupboard exactly like his mother would have done. This way she would never suspect hers had shattered. He hoped she would think he ate up all of the food.

There was one thing he knew his mother would notice right away and that was her flowerbed beside the house and in the backyard. The little rain they got last night gave some of the flowers hope, but others wilted and drooped with sadness. At least, she would never find out what really happened the night before.

Copyright © 2017 by Kristi N. Zanker