Why was he worried about what Candy thought,
anyway? Hookers have sex with married men all the time.
She moved in close, put her left arm around
him as her right hand went down to his crotch.
He got rock-hard immediately.
“
Feels like you’re ready to
go.” Candy unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants as he
unhooked the single button holding her blouse together. There was
no bra to remove.
Larry had never seen such
perky breasts. But then, he hadn’t seen very many breasts of any
kind. At least not up close and personal. Her luscious lips and her
hot tongue were taking his breath away. Erin had never kissed him
like
this
.
At the same time, she was stroking him through his underwear with
her talented fingers.
“
Oops.” She looked
down.
“
It’s okay. I can come
again. Believe me.”
“
No problem.” She stepped
back and sat on the bed.
As she raised each leg to take off a boot,
he could see all the way up between her legs. She was not wearing
underwear. And she was clearly showing herself to him on
purpose.
He clumsily pulled off his shoes, pants, and
sticky underwear. His jacket and shirt were off in a flash.
Candy removed her final article of
clothing—the tight-fitting, leather mini-skirt.
The sight before him was breathtaking. And
he wondered why he had never done this before.
“
Come on, Baby. Let’s have
some fun.” She grinned and motioned for him as she slowly spread
her legs.
He quickly took a condom out of the package
and rolled it on. But as soon as he slid between her legs he came
again. “I’m sorry.”
“
Hey, no problem. Is this
your first time, Honey?”
“
Oh, no. Not at all. But
I’ve never—”
“—
been with a
hooker?”
“
Right.”
“
So, is that all? Or can you
go again?”
“
With
you
I think I could go
all night
.”
“
Now, that’s gonna be pretty
expensive, I’m afraid.” She grinned.
“
I don’t care.”
“
Well, okay then.” She began
to kiss him.
Within seconds, he was ready for action
again.
**********
Cynthia had been sleeping for about an hour
when something woke her. It seemed the curtains were billowing
slightly. But she knew she hadn’t opened the window. It was
February. She tried to determine whether it was colder in the room.
Was there a breeze? But her senses were dull.
“
Hello, Baby.” The strange
voice was behind her.
She twisted in the covers and saw a dark
figure standing over her. She squinted to make out his face, but
the dim nightlight at his back provided only a silhouette of his
overcoat and head.
“
You had to know I’d come
eventually. I shouldn’t have let you marry that
first
husband. But I really
didn’t think you’d go through with it. I thought you would come to
your senses and dump him.”
Cynthia hated guns, but right now she wished
she had a big one in her hands.
“
And now you’re about to do
it again—you’re gonna marry this loser, Greg Tenorly, who doesn’t
deserve you.”
She tried to speak, but nothing came
out.
“
But don’t worry. I’ll take
care of him. You won’t have to do a thing. And then I’ll have you
all to myself.”
She struggled with all her might to break
out of her grogginess. The word began to rumble deep with her
belly, causing her whole body to shake violently until it erupted
from her mouth. “No!”
He was gone.
Her heart was racing. She turned on the
table lamp and ran to the window. It was closed and locked.
After taking a couple of slow, deep breaths,
she got back into bed.
It was the emails—they were giving her
nightmares. But it was silly. She’d already determined they were
coming from a horny teenage boy. They were meant for some high
school girl—not for her.
She rolled over and went back to sleep.
**********
“
So, are we done?” said
Candy.
Larry was lying beside her on the bed. “One
more time. How about doggy-style?”
“
It’s
your
money.” Candy sounded
tired.
She turned around and got up on all
fours.
Larry hopped off the bed.
She waited while he put on another condom.
The cheap bed frame wobbled as he crawled toward her from the
rear.
“
Okay, big guy. Give me your
best shot.”
She felt something brush across the top of
her head and down past her face. Then it tightened around her
neck.
“
What are you do—?” She
couldn’t breathe, much less talk.
He had looped his belt through the buckle
and thrown the noose over her head. He jumped on her back and rode
her like a bronco—pulling back on the reins as hard as he could. He
wasn’t too concerned that the people next door would hear the
ruckus. It sounded like the couple in that room was too busy
getting their rocks off to notice.
Finally, her limbs gave way and her body
lurched forward, crashing her head into the headboard with a
sickening thud. She lie still, and Larry loosened his grip,
thinking she might be dead. He leaned down to see if she was still
breathing.
She jerked her head back, directly into his
nose, dazing him. Then she tried with all her might to push him
off.
He rolled off the bed and landed hard—flat
on his back. He feared the thinly-carpeted concrete floor had done
major damage to his tailbone. But the end of the belt was still in
his hand. And Candy’s body was falling toward him. Before he could
react, one of her fists hit him like a hockey puck—right in the
balls.
The back of her head flew toward his nose.
Just in time, he turned slightly—only to feel the crunch of her
skull hitting his cheekbone.
For a moment, he lost the will to fight.
Candy sensed it and tried to jump up.
But he grabbed the belt with both hands and
gave it a violent yank.
She collapsed to the floor next to him.
He checked her pulse.
Nothing.
Finally, he thought. Her neck was probably
broken.
He surveyed the room. What a mess he had
made. He gathered the four used condoms, and put them in one of
his jacket pockets. Then he used soap and hot water and a hand
towel to clean her up.
He put her on the bed and stared at her
naked body. She had been a lot of fun. But she had to die. He
couldn’t afford to have her talking to the police.
He had concocted a perfect plan to murder
Erin and get away with it. And he could not allow this woman to
ruin his plans—no matter how sexy and likeable she was.
Yes, Lucky Larry was lucky
indeed—as always. He got to have the best sex of his life. Then he
got to do another murder. He wasn’t sure which he enjoyed
more—
committing
murder or
writing about
it
afterwards. His readers were going
to love this chapter, he thought.
He knew he would be leaving traces of his
DNA in the room. But he doubted that police would make much of an
effort to find the killer. Just another dead hooker. So, what did
it matter?
He started to leave.
“
Wow, that was close. Almost
forgot,” he whispered to himself.
He unlatched the top of her purse and
flipped it open. Then he dumped the contents on the dresser and
began to search.
“
There you are.” He smiled.
It was the card with his license plate number on it. He had seen
her writing it down when he was parking the car at the convenience
store.
He flipped the card over and read it.
Melanie Maylin – Attorney at Law
Yeah, he wasn’t surprised a hooker would
have an attorney to bail her out of jail whenever necessary.
The card was all he needed. But he was
curious. He opened her wallet and looked at her driver’s
license.
“
No! It can’t
be.”
He felt ill. Candy looked different in her
driver’s license photo. Her hair was brown instead of black. And,
of course, she was wearing more clothes.
And her name was
not Candy
.
It was
Melanie Maylin – Attorney at Law!
Chapter
7
“
That’ll be
$9.87.”
Rebecca Ranghorn flipped up the top of the
box, pulled out a glazed donut, and took bite.
The young secretary behind
her looked on in disbelief. She was
so
ready for the weekend. But
first she had to get to the office and put in her lousy eight
hours. Why couldn’t this woman just pay and get out of the
way?
Rebecca tossed the box at the clerk. A
couple of donuts flew out and fell on the floor behind the
counter.
“
Those are yesterday’s
donuts. I told you to give me the fresh ones.”
“
But, ma’am, these
are
the fresh—.” The
look in her eyes stopped him cold. He dumped the box in the trash
and picked out a fresher dozen.
“
Now, that’ll be $9.87,
please.”
“
Keep your drawers on,
Jack.” She sampled the new batch. “That’s more like it.” She threw
a ten dollar bill on the counter and walked out with her donuts and
large bottle of orange juice.
Her enormous black 1979 Lincoln Continental
Town Car was four feet longer and twice the weight of the young
secretary’s Toyota Corolla parked next to it. It was costing her a
fortune to drive her dad’s old car. But it made her feel close to
him—even though he had been dead for eleven years. She rarely had
an occasion to drive out of town—and it was not a big town.
Sherman, Texas has about 36,000 residents.
She pulled into the old strip mall parking
lot. Most of the stores and other businesses were barely hanging
on. The place hadn’t seen decent shopping traffic since the 1980s.
But it was the perfect location for Rebecca and her partner. They
didn’t need shoppers. All they needed was cheap office space.
Theirs was narrow, but deep, with a reception area, two offices and
a bathroom.
Wendy saw her coming with the donuts and
orange juice. So, she got up and unlocked the glass door and let
her in. The 19 year-old worked her butt off for the ten bucks an
hour they were paying her. She wished she made more, but right now
she was just happy to have a steady job so she could support her
baby, and help her mom with the bills.
“
Have some breakfast.”
Rebecca put the donuts and orange juice on Wendy’s desk, and headed
for the coffee pot. “Any messages?”
“
Not for
you
. But Mrs. Davis called for
Melanie. She had an appointment this morning at 10:00, and wanted
to know whether she could reschedule for 9:00. I checked Melanie’s
calendar and told her that would be fine.”
“
Good.” Rebecca picked up a
donut, took a huge bite and gulped it down.
“
But the problem is: I can’t
get Melanie on the phone and it’s 8:40.”
“
That’s weird.”
“
Yeah—because she always
answers unless she’s in court.”
Rebecca took a sip from her coffee cup.
“Better call Mrs. Davis back and cancel.”
“
What do you think happened
to Melanie?”
“
Uh…maybe her phone
died.”
Rebecca went to Melanie’s
office. She was afraid she knew
exactly
what had happened to her
partner. She hoped she was wrong.
She found an extra memory card in Melanie’s
desk and put it in her pocket. Then she walked back into the
reception area and refilled her cup. “Wendy, cancel my appointments
for this morning.” She was out the door before Wendy could ask her
where she was going and when to expect her back.
Rebecca drove to the motel Melanie had told
her about. As she walked into the office, she smelled forty years’
worth of stink, oozing from a dozen layers of tobacco-stained wall
paint.
“
Can I help you?”
The leather-faced old man didn’t look like
he had spent even one day indoors his entire life. Maybe this was
his first one, she thought. “Yes. I believe my friend is staying
here and I wanted to surprise her. It’s her birthday. So, I was
hoping you could tell me which room she’s in. Her name is Melanie,
but she goes by a different name sometimes. She might have
registered as ‘Candy.’”
“
Oh, yeah.
Candy.”
She was glad the man knew
her partner, but also a little sickened. She didn’t want to
have
any
friends in common with this carnie-looking greaser. “Good. So,
can you tell me if she stayed here last night?”
He flipped through the register and started
coughing. Then he stepped back a couple feet, pressed a finger on
the side of his nose, and blew a wad of snot into the trash can.
“Yeah. Room 97. But I can’t give you a key. Only got one per
room.”
“
That’s okay. Thanks.” She
bolted out the door.
She located the room on the back side and
knocked.