“
But I’ve got another great
story. Remember when you lost your balance on the risers and fell
on top of two of the altos? One of them wanted to date you after
that. Remember?”
Sandy could see Greg was getting seriously
annoyed.
“
Okay. I’m done. Anyway—he’s
a great guy. Congrats, Cynthia.”
**********
Larry decided to drive Erin’s BMW down to
Sherman, leave it in a parking lot, and take a taxi back to
Denison. From there it would take a couple of hours to walk to the
cabin.
He would tell the police she came to visit
him, they argued, and she decided to go home.
He grabbed a flashlight, a
pair of cheap garden gloves, and Erin’s purse, and walked out the
door and locked it. As soon as he got into her shiny new
convertible, he raised the top and began to manipulate the buttons
to adjust the electric seat. He was tall, but Erin was a mere 5’1”.
Or, that’s what she
used
to be, he thought. Now
she’s 0’0”. Ashes aren’t very tall. He laughed to himself. How
witty he was.
After the driver’s seat had moved as far as
it would go, he used his foot to lift his butt and move himself
further back against the seat. But the heel of his shoe slipped on
something. Yuck, he thought—a slimy frog must have hopped into the
car while the top was down.
He shined the flashlight on the floorboard.
Disgusting. It was a used condom. He wondered how much bribe money
it would take to discover the owner of the gooey DNA.
Why had he let Erin use him for so long? She
thought she could get away with anything—just because she had a hot
body. How appropriate that it had finally gone up in flames. He
chuckled softly.
Erin had been alive and well
earlier in the evening, thinking she could treat him like dirt, as
she always did. But this time it was different. Because Larry had
learned a valuable lesson: that he could accomplish anything he had
the
will
to
do.
So, he willed that
she
no longer
exist
.
And his will was done.
Chapter
5
Cynthia stripped to her underwear and turned
on the shower. She liked to let it run a couple of minutes and get
nice and steamy before getting in.
She walked back into her
bedroom. Soon to be
their
bedroom, she thought,
smiling. She sat down at the small table and bumped the mouse,
bringing her laptop back to life.
“
Come on now,
weatherman…give me a bright, sunny wedding day.” The weather had
been looking iffy for Saturday.
There was still no change—partly cloudy with
a chance of showers.
It had rained on her first wedding day.
Looking back, it seemed like an omen predicting a bad marriage. So,
she felt a great weather day would mean a great marriage. Silly,
she knew—but she really wanted a sunny day.
She thought the shower should be about
right, and started to get up when she noticed she had an unread
email. She didn’t recognize the ‘from address,’ but opened it
anyway.
Your beautiful smile, your silky red
hair,
At the edge of the field, you were always there.
Rooting me on to unimaginable glory,
Inspiring my heart in a hero’s story.
But now I’m alone and longing for you,
So, flip up your skirt like you used to do.
Jump into the air and I’ll catch my hottie;
I’ll rip off your clothes and have sex with your body.
“
Yuk!”
She deleted the email. Who would send her
something like that? This one was even worse than the others. It
sounded like the poem was referring to her being on the sidelines
of a football game. She had been a cheerleader in both high school
and college.
And apparently the writer considered himself
some kind of a hero. Whoever it was, they were no hero to her—at
least, not any more.
Cynthia slipped off her bra and panties and
stepped into the steamy shower. She would forget about the weird
poem. He might even have the wrong email address. Maybe his
messages were intended for some other woman—or even for a teenage
girl. Yes, that was probably it. Now, it made sense to her. It was
just some horny teenage boy sending his sex poems to the wrong
email address.
As she rubbed the slippery bar of soap
across her body, she thought about the honeymoon and how much she
loved Greg. Making love to him would be so amazing.
**********
“
You come here every night,
don’t you?” Sandy grinned at his old buddy.
“
Yep.”
Greg’s red 1965 Pontiac Bonneville was the
only car in the back of Dairy Queen’s parking lot.
“
Why don’t you put the top
down so we can look at the stars? Isn’t that what you usually do
when you bring Cynthia here?”
“
Only when it’s warm out.
But either way, it’s nice.”
“
I’ll bet. But what does she
think about your obsession with dipped cones?”
“
I wouldn’t call it
an
obsession
.”
“
So, you don’t eat them as
often as you did back in college?”
“
No. I eat them
more often
.”
Sandy laughed.
“
But it’s not an
obsession
. More of
an
addiction
.”
“
Well, I’ve never said
anything, but I’ve always thought the whole concept was crazy. You
put some ice cream in a cone, which you need to eat before it
melts—‘cause otherwise it’s a shake, not a cone. You turn it upside
down and hope the ice cream doesn’t fall out. Then you submerge the
thing in hot fudge. The ice cream causes the fudge to get cold and
hard, while the fudge starts melting the ice cream.”
“
That’s the
beauty
of it.” Greg
took another nibble from the top of the hard shell.
“
And as soon as you take a
couple of bites, the chocolate shell cracks and falls in your
lap.”
“
Not if you’re
good
.”
“
And you know it must have
been a
man
who invented them. Or a woman with no kids. Because no
mother
would create
something that she
knew
would lead to little Johnny
coming home with black chocolate smeared all over his new shirt and
pants.”
“
Well, just because little
Johnny isn’t
man enough
to handle one doesn’t mean
I
shouldn’t—“
The chocolate shell broke apart and slid off
Greg’s cone.
“
The only difference between
you and Johnny is those napkins spread across your lap. Because
you
know
it’s
coming.”
Greg began to pick up each chunk and eat
it.
Sandy took a bite of his
banana split. “I’ve got to congratulate you again, Man. Cynthia
is
hot
.”
“
Easy—that’s my bride you’re
talking about.”
“
I’ll bet y’all have been
going at it like rabbits.”
“
Well, not that it’s any of
your business, but we’re waiting until we get married.”
“
You’re kidding
me.”
“
Nope. We made the
commitment and we’ve stuck to it.”
“
Why?”
“
Well, for one thing, we
know that
morally
it’s the right thing to do.”
“
Sure. But that’s never
stopped
me
.”
“
And we’ve both lived
through rough marriages and we just want to make sure neither of us
gets hurt. You know—in case things didn’t work out.”
“
Big deal. My marriage went
south too, remember. But I’d rather take a chance on getting hurt.
I don’t know how you’ve managed to wait.”
“
I’ll admit—it hasn’t been
easy.”
“
You mean, it’s been
hard
.”
“
Yeah.” Then Greg noticed
Sandy was grinning at him.
“
Yeah, I’ll bet it’s
been
real hard
—every night.”
“
Well, sure. I
am
human. But, how
about changing the subject?”
“
Okay.” Sandy spooned up
another bite of ice cream, banana, and toppings. “You’re off from
work tomorrow, right?”
“
Yeah. Why?”
“
We need to sleep in
tomorrow morning so we can be rested up for your bachelor
party.”
“
What bachelor
party?”
“
I’m your best man, and I’m
throwing you a bachelor party. So, get plenty of sleep
tonight.”
“
Well, who’s coming to this
party? You didn’t ask me for a guest list.”
“
That’s because it’s just
gonna be you and me, Pal.”
“
Fine. We’ll come back here
tomorrow night and have some more ice cream, and you can give me a
gift, if you like. And one of those silly paper hats.”
“
Hey—don’t be telling me how
to plan the party. You’re the guest of honor, but
I’m
running the
show. So, just wait and be surprised.”
**********
Candy watched the bearded man drive his
silver BMW into the convenience store parking lot and pull around
to the side, near the back corner of the building. There were
plenty of open slots in the front, so she figured the guy was there
for something other than a bag of chips and a coke.
A chilly breeze blew up her mini-skirt and
she shivered. She pressed her legs together tightly to generate
some heat. The knee-high boots protected her feet and calves, but
her butt was freezing off.
She wrote down the license number as she
circled around to the side of the expensive vehicle. He’ll have a
big wad of cash, she thought.
Larry Luzor had just stepped out of the car,
when she said, “Nice car, Honey.”
“
Uh, thanks.”
“
I’m Candy. You got a sweet
tooth tonight?”
He gave her the once over.
Her black hair framed a pretty, young-looking face. The low-cut
blouse left little to the imagination, barely hiding her nipples.
She was average height, but the high heel boots elevated her to
about 5’8”. The long legs were
very
nice.
Larry had never used a prostitute. He’d
always thought of it as revolting. The idea of having sex with a
woman who’d been with hundreds of men did not appeal to him.
But this didn’t seem like a typical hooker.
She seemed too clean—almost pure. But of course, she wasn’t. He
knew she had to be just as skanky as the rest of them. Still—if he
hadn’t been in the middle of something important he might have been
more than willing to buy what she was selling.
“
So, what do you say? Want
to get it on?” She smiled seductively.
He was impressed that she had all her teeth,
and that they looked white.
“
How can I resist?” He
grinned at her and winked.
Yes, he would go with her. But not for the
reason she thought. He had seen her in his rear view mirror,
writing down his license number. And he knew that by morning the
store owner would realize the BMW had been abandoned. The police
would be called in. And when they contacted Larry, he would tell
them his wife left the cabin last night and he had not seen or
heard from her since.
So, the police would think Erin had been
abducted from the parking lot. They wouldn’t think Larry had
anything to do with her disappearance.
But if Candy talked to the police, his plan
would begin to unravel. She would tell them she saw Larry getting
out of the car. And had a conversation with him. They would gather
DNA evidence from the car and the cabin. And the barbecue pit.
So, he would go to the motel with Candy. And
he might even let her earn some money.
But she’d never get a chance to spend
it.
Chapter
6
Candy opened her box-shaped purse, pulled
out the key, and unlocked the door.
Larry had been concerned that they would
have to walk through a lobby of prying eyes. How foolish of him to
think such a thing. These professionals knew what they were doing.
The room was accessible from the parking lot, at the rear of the
motel. He wondered how many men she had already brought to this
room tonight.
She should have a business card, he thought.
Just off the top of his head he could think of some great
slogans.
When you absolutely, positively have to get
laid.
I deliver for you.
Push my easy button.
Dinging dongs since
2002
.
She let him in, locked the door, and hooked
the chain. Then she sat her plastic-looking purse on the dresser,
flipped up the top, dropped the key in, pulled out a box of condoms
and began to walk toward him.
Larry guessed she was between 25 and 30.
Whatever her age, he wanted her.
Then he remembered he was still wearing his
wedding ring. Well, it wasn’t really a wedding ring, since he and
Erin never got married. But after they had been together for a year
or so, she had suggested they get matching rings. And because he
had worn it ever since, he would continue to wear it until Erin’s
killer had been caught. Ha. He sounded like O. J.