Authors: Wendy Potocki
“Uh, uh, uh! Dirty lips sink ships or something like that. Besides, you snuck in a gift, too.”
“I suppose. So what'd you get me?”
“Something for that B.O. happening in your armpits,” she joked, Melissa giving her a playful shove. Quieting down, Collette continued to massage her feet.
“So what happened today?” Collette asked, breaking the silence.
“What do you mean?” Melissa asked, leaning into the corner. Looking out the window at the wintry landscape, Holybrook looked like a postcard.
“I mean today … in rehearsal. Kurt was going crazy about something you did. So was Justin—until Zoe threatened to cut him off from the benefits that come from being her
friend
. Snark, snark.”
“Really? Kurt and Justin said something? I don't know, Collette. I was having trouble with the adagio, and Alexei began coaching me. And suddenly I was like ... I don't know ... in a whole different world. Everything felt so easy. Like my flesh melted away and I was like a ... skeleton!” she exclaimed, hunching her shoulders.
“That's not a good analogy,” Collette quipped, laughing. Melissa joined her realizing how gruesome it sounded.
“Sorry, but there was this lightness. I guess that's what I'm trying to say. Usually we get so bogged down in our bodies, but it felt like it wasn’t there. It was so fantastic, but scary.”
“Scary?”
“Yeah, I, I don't know how to describe it, but I lost myself. I wasn't Melissa any longer.”
Collette contracted the bridge of her nose, trying her best to follow the bizarre explanation. She snapped her fingers.
“Oh, I know where you're going with this. The old Melissa dissolved,” she said spreading her hands out as completing the fantasy, “leaving the new prima ballerina, Melissa Solange!”
Laughing at the humor, out of the corner of her eye, she saw an old black car. As the bus came to another stop, it ducked behind rather than passing. An elderly lady boarding, she stopped to chitchat with the driver. It wasn’t long before the bus hit the highway. Missy’s suspicions on high alert, she kept her eye peeled for the two-door. Not spotting it, it had either turned or was still lurking behind. The situation bothered her since most drivers did anything to avoid being stuck behind a bus.
Fast approaching the last stop, they gathered their packages. Collette put her fashionably shaggy boots back on.
“Collette, I want you to look around when we get outside.”
“Why?”
“Because there was this car. I don't know if it’s still there, but if it is, I want you to see. I don’t want to be the only one this time.”
“Okay, I'll look. Promise.”
Departing through the rear exit, Collette immediately acquiesced to the request. Spotting a black car on the shoulder of the road, it looked like it was waiting.
“Does this have anything to do with a black car?”
“It’s still there?” she asked anxiously, not turning around.
“Yes,” Collette said adjusting her collar. “But it's just parked, or something.”
“Let's walk. See what it does,” she said, taking a few steps. Both advancing a few more feet, Collette checked. “It's moving,” she whispered, suddenly concerned.
“Okay, well, there's plenty of traffic, so let's stay calm. Nothing's going to happen at 4:00 in the afternoon.”
“Yeah, crime is suspended in the daytime. It's a law.”
“That's not what I meant and you know it. Just make sure to try to get a look at the driver if the car passes by.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then I make a call to Todd. Pronto.”
Keeping a steady pace, they clung to each other for support. The car approaching, it quickly gained speed as it rushed by.
“It was him!” Collette squealed, pausing and grabbing Melissa's hands.
“Him, who?”
“The guy you pointed out! The one with the poof on top of his head!”
“I thought you said you didn’t see him?”
“Of course, I looked! You were so right about that nut job. That was spooky! He looked right at me! Like this!” she said, giving an evil glare.
“Yeah, well, he probably realized where we were going, and that we were going to turn off on that private road. He'd really be out of place on it.”
“You should tell Todd about this.”
“Don't worry, I will. Now, come on,” she said, taking Collette’s hand. “Let's hurry before that creep returns!”
Chapter Thirty-four
Hoping the snow would cool his rage, Larabee walked around Holybrook. It wasn't bad enough that he had to work double shifts to find two idiot girls that probably ran off with the wrong guys; Carol had followed through on obtaining that restraining order. As of Friday, 2:15 PM, he wasn't allowed within 100 feet of her or her troublemaking teenage daughter. To drive home the point, the online tracking of his Christmas present showed the package had been refused. It was just what he needed to set him off. He felt like killing someone.
Stomping down the sidewalk, he decided to grab something to eat. Since the craziness started, he hadn't had time to go grocery shopping. He usually left that sort of nonsense to the women in his life, but there was no one filling that particular position. It wasn't fair. None of it.
He'd had some problems with women over the years, but he'd really cared for Carol. She'd been different. Independent enough to have gone back to school and obtain a degree so she could support herself and her daughter, she was woman enough to let him take the lead. She was soft ... gentle. Even her lovemaking was like being with an angel. He’d started to change his ways, spending less and less time at the strip club, and more time at home. He had planned on eventually giving up the wild times spent with loose women, but her damned daughter had to go and squeal. What difference did it make if he wanted to stop and have a drink? A man needed to relax after a hard day. Besides, who was that little piece of filth to talk? He’d done a little snooping around, and found out that she'd slept with half the sophomore class. She certainly was no one to talk, but she did—about things she didn't know anything about. She filled her mother's ears with lies, alleging that he’d put his hands on her in order to cop a feel. It was so ridiculous. Of course, he'd touched her, but it was as a surrogate parent to the girl that apparently was bound and determined to see that her mother remain alone.
The bright lights of the diner attracted his attention. It'd been awhile since he stopped in Manny's. Remembering the good food and good conversation, he headed for it. What the hell? Maybe Bonnie could tell him what happened to those two bimbos that disappeared since she professed to know everything else. Maybe she could even tell him what was up with Carol's stuck-up, snot-nosed daughter. Too good to have him share her home, she was nonetheless willing to let anyone and anything crawl between her legs.
“Brent,” Bonnie commented, giving a half-hearted greeting.
“Bonnie,” he said, hanging up his coat and blowing into his frozen hands. Looking around, the place was pretty well deserted.
“Almost closing time,” she remarked, pointing to the clock. Having lost track of time, she was right. Already 10:30 PM, on weekdays the diner closed at 11:00 PM.
“Too late to get something to eat?” he asked.
“Not as long as you eat fast, or order it to go.”
“Take out? Good idea. I'll take Special #1 to go. And some coffee, to drink here, if that’s okay?”
“Sure, knock yourself out. Pick any spot. They're all my tables at this hour.”
He took the booth furthest away from the door. Remembering that it was the one spot that spared you from wintry blasts from customers entering and leaving, there probably wouldn’t be too many at this hour, but better safe than sorry. He sat picking at his nails, growing more and more angry and confused.
“Here, you go, Brent. Food will be ready in a minute,” she said placing the bill face down. “You okay?”
“Yeah, Bonnie. Just fine.” Running his hands through his hair, he stared into the face that had once been the hottest thing in town. Where had the years gone?
She didn't like the way he was looking at her, but then he'd always given her the creeps. Once a good cop, if anything went on, he'd be all over it. In the past few years, he made that philosophy exclusive to women. It rankled her that he didn't treat her sex with respect, but you didn't get tips by being critical.
Leaving him alone with his thoughts, he resumed the examination of his hands wondering what it would feel like to wrap his fingers around little Laurie's neck. The bell chimed in the background, interrupting his thoughts. Footsteps walking by him, a shadow informed him that whoever it was had stopped. Looking up, he saw it was Laura Hilliard.
Jolted upright, his head swiveled from right to left. Wanting a witness to the fact that she was approaching him and not the reverse, he’d been here first. Knowing that judges wouldn't see it that way, she'd twist it all around to make him look as if he was in the wrong and in violation of the court order, but it wasn't true.
Damned people! The few that were in Manny's were concentrating on settling their bills and not on the scheme meant to land him in jail. He could get kicked off the force for this. He didn't want that. He loved being a cop. It was the only thing he was good at, and this piece of scum was trying to make it go away. She'd planned it. She must have. There was no such thing as a coincidence.
Motionless, he waited for her to scream and start a scene. It was all going to be an act because she was smiling. Women that were really scared didn't smile. Yet there she was, that big mouth of hers painted a harlot red. Grinning from ear to ear, she was enjoying him stewing in misery.
If she wasn't going to say anything, he needed to. He needed to draw as much attention to what was happening as possible. It was the only way to avert disaster. Opening his mouth, she put a finger to her pursed lips.
“Shhhhh,” she hushed, making her way to the table across from him. Sitting, she let her coat ride up on a bare thigh. Not knowing what she could be wearing, there seemed to be too much skin showing for this time of the year. Unzipping a down coat that he'd seen in the store window of Zephyr's, it was a shop aimed at the younger crowd. Contemplating buying it for her as a Christmas present, it was before all this shit started.
Bonnie walked over to her, taking her order and quickly walking away. In another minute, she returned with a cup of steaming hot coffee. Laurie took a sip. Provocatively licking her lips, she never took her eyes from him. She was coming onto him. That's what this was. The signals were undeniable.
The chime sounded again. Larabee glanced at the newest customer. It was Foster—heading in his direction.
Laurie posed in a Hollywood kittenish sort of way. Enough to get his juices flowing, she tugged again on the zipper. Her coat peeled away revealing the leopard negligee he’d bought for Carol. Laurie wearing it, she was nude underneath. Her nipples showing through the semi-transparent material, an erection was coming on. Foster's body blocked the view.
“Hey, Brent,” Foster greeted, turning his head towards the front. “The usual, Bonnie,” he called out, beginning to unbutton his jacket.
“Get out of the way!” Larabee snarled, waving his hand frantically.
Foster jumped to the side, sliding in next to him.
“Headed home?” he asked Larabee.
“Maybe not. I told you she was a whore.”
“Who?” he asked.
“Carol's daughter.”
Foster slid closer, grabbing Larabee's arm. He spoke quietly, but assertively.
“Look, Brent, you're in enough trouble. I heard all about that court order. You better stay away from both of them, or ...”
“Stay away? When she's begging for it?”
“Who's begging for what?” Bonnie queried, setting down the brown bag filled with food.
“Never mind,” Foster said, wanting to change subjects. He didn't want Bonnie knowing that Larabee was talking like that. She could get him in trouble if she told.
“Never mind? Never mind? When Laurie is practically giving me a lap dance? She's asking for it!”
“Laurie Hilliard? You talkin' about Carol's daughter, Laurie? Brent, you gotta stop it. She's underage and ...” Bonnie counseled.
“She's not underage—not in some states, anyway. And besides, she's more experienced than I am.”
Laurie waited until Bonnie had her back turned. Sluttishly cupping her breast, she lifted it. Jiggling it, the soft flesh rippled seductively. Zipping up her jacket, she placed money on the table. Drawing the hood over her head, her blonde hair was pushed forward, her bangs partially covering her black-rimmed eyes. Brushing the golden fringe back, she crooked her finger indicating for him to follow. The bell ringing out, Laurie waited. Mouthing,
“Come on!”
she tossed her head, laughing.
“You two can discuss the propriety of my getting a little something from a girl that's old enough to know what she wants. Me? I'm off to get a little bit of that jungle cat,” he replied. Wondering why those tracking websites were always wrong, Laurie had gotten her hands on that package. She must have waited for him to leave the station, probably combing the town until she found where he went. Snickering at the coy act she'd put on when he was dating her mother, it been just that—an act. Maybe that's why she broke them up. Maybe she wanted him all to herself. Well, he'd see about that. First he needed to find out who was better in bed.