“Be quiet,” she snapped. She was back to being the commandant. “Most men disgust me,” she said. “But I do appreciate outstanding anatomical achievements.” She pushed Dragon’s head down and let him lick up the toppings that had spattered to the floor. His slurping and snuffling were the loudest sounds Dragon had made so far. As soon as he’d licked the floor clean, he sniffed around frantically for more, and when he realized there was none, he jumped up and tried to clean Marvelli’s sticky shorts, standing on his hind legs straining against the leash, clawing at the air with his front paws.
“Sorry, Dragon,” Sunny said, as she pulled him away. She dragged him to the other side of the room and tied his leash to one of the manacles bolted to the wall. “Stay” was all she had to say. Dragon lowered his rump and sat erect, staring hard at Marvelli and silently showing his teeth, but not moving a muscle.
Sunny snatched up a riding crop from the wall rack as she walked back to Marvelli. “Now,” she said. “As for you.” She tapped the formerly little man with the end of the crop, testing it for firmness. “Impressive,” she said. “Very impressive.”
She turned away from him and reached behind her for the zipper that ran down her back.
Marvelli panicked. “What’re you doing?”
She turned her head and looked at him over her bare shoulder. “Are you that stupid?” she said.
“No. Maybe. Come on, you can’t do what I think you’re gonna do.”
“I can’t? Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“You have no say in the matter,” she said. “And from the looks of things, I’d say at least part of you has another opinion.”
“He’s not serious,” Marvelli said. “He’s just kidding.”
Sunny exhaled a flat laugh. “I’ve never met a penis that had a sense of humor. Penises are incapable of kidding. Trust me on that.” She started to pull down her zipper, and soon Marvelli could see where her spine became her tailbone. It was much more than he wanted to see. She peeled the rubber dress down to her knees—it took some doing to pull it off completely and kick it aside. She was wearing a black spandex bra and black thong panties. With her black-leather stiletto centurion sandals, she looked like a super-vixen, a comic-book she-villain.
Sunny turned around and beamed an evil grin at him. “Don’t worry,” she said. “You won’t have to do a thing. Just sit back and enjoy it.”
“No way,” Marvelli muttered. He was thinking about Loretta, worrying about what she’d think if she ever found out about this. It wouldn’t be his fault, but he’d still feel as if it were.
Sunny walked around his head to a lacquered black Chinese cabinet that was pushed into a corner. It was as high as Sunny’s shoulders and had dozens of small drawers, each one marked with a Chinese character painted in red. She opened a few drawers until she found what she was looking for. When she came back, she was holding a big pair of scissors that almost could have doubled for hedge clippers.
Marvelli felt sick to his stomach when he saw them. He struggled against the straps. “What’re you gonna do with those?”
“Relax.” She threw her leg over him with the agility of a ballerina and hopped up on his thighs. “You’re very pale,” she said. “Do you know that?” She was snipping the air with the scissors.
“What’re you gonna do?” he demanded. His throat was tight. He kept thinking about Lorena Bobbit, the woman who got ticked off at her husband a couple of years back and cut his little guy off, then threw it in a field. The cops eventually found it, and a team of surgeons sewed it back on. Supposedly they did a pretty good job, and they basically got it to work again. Still, Marvelli felt like throwing up. It was as if someone had just kicked him in the crotch. Who knew what this nutcase had in mind? She just might do something like that to his little guy. Oh, God!
No, no, he thought, that’s not gonna happen. Sunny’s bad, but she’s not that bad. Right?
But what if she did? He could just imagine what the crime scene photos would look like. God, no! he thought. The whole world would see him trussed up like a parfait in bondage … but without the little guy. No, God, no!
Sunny was humming to herself as she stuck a finger into the elastic waistband of his shorts and stretched it away from his belly. Marvelli’s heart was pounding like crazy as he struggled for breath.
“No,” he gasped. Don’t. Please. Whatever you want. Just tell me.
She grinned at him. “But this is what I want.” She lowered the scissors and snipped through his underwear in three big bites. Mr. Happy was liberated. He didn’t have a clue, the stunade.
“Please, no,” he pleaded. “Money. I’ll give you money.”
“I don’t want money,” Sunny said.
“Then what do you want? What can I give you?”
She stopped smiling. “You can’t give me anything. I take what I want for myself.”
Marvelli’s eyebrows were up in his hairline. His fingers and toes were ice cold.
She arched one eyebrow and snipped the air between them with the scissors. Then she started to hum again. Marvelli suddenly recognized the tune. It was from Mary ?oppins. Julie Andrews sang it. “Just a Spoon Full of Sugar.”
Marvelli glanced down at the little guy standing at attention. “Can we just talk about this first?” he asked.
She shook her head no.
16
“I think someone’s down there,” Dorie said.
“You think so?” Krupnick said. They were standing at the top of the narrow stairway that led down to the basement.
Loretta was standing right behind them, still carrying the bowl of Elmer Fudge Whirl that Krupnick had given her. She hadn’t touched it, and it was starting to melt. She didn’t have any appetite. She just wanted to get the hell out of there and leave San Francisco because she had a new life to start now that Marvelli had abandoned her. But for some strange reason Krupnick had insisted that she get the rest of the house tour, and it was just easier to go along with what he wanted than to argue about it. They’d done all three floors, and all that was left was the basement. Well, as soon as she saw his rec room, she was out of there. She didn’t care if he was Ira Krupnick. He wasn’t her problem.
Dorie didn’t seem upset that someone might be in the basement. She led the way down the steps, followed by Loretta, then Krupnick. But when Dorie opened the door at the bottom of the stairway, she stopped short and put her hand to her face. “Uh-oh,” she said.
“What’s wrong?” Krupnick demanded. He was crowding Loretta from behind.
Loretta moved forward to get away from him, but Dorie was in the way. Loretta looked over Dorie’s shoulder to see what the “uh-oh” was all about, expecting a burst pipe or something like that, but what she saw made her jaw hit the floor. Krupnick’s basement was an S&M dungeon, and his old chum Sunny was straddling some nearly naked pervert strapped to a massage table and smeared with chocolate sauce and jimmies. She couldn’t see the perv’s face because Sunny was blocking the view.
Krupnick was crawling up Loretta’s back, desperate to get into the room, but Loretta didn’t want any part of this, and she intended to go right back upstairs and leave as soon as she could free herself from this logjam. But Krupnick kept pushing from behind, forcing Dorie and Loretta to enter the room. When Loretta stepped over the threshold, she finally got a look at the pervert’s face, and instantly she stopped breathing.
“Marvelli?” She was barely able to voice his name.
At the sound of her voice, he whipped his head around and strained his neck to see where she was. “Loretta? Is that you?”
She didn’t answer. The words just wouldn’t come.
“Loretta, this isn’t what it seems,” Marvelli said. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”
But she was only half-listening to him. She was suddenly so exhausted all she wanted to do was sit down—on the floor if necessary. After expending so mu
ch energy being furious with him for running off with Vissa, now she had to start all over and be furious at him for being with Sunny. A lot more furious.
“I didn’t know you were here, Sunny,” Krupnick said. He sounded angry, but he was keeping a lid on it. “So who’s your friend?”
“He’s your friend,” Sunny replied indignantly, tossing her head to get the hair out of her face.
Krupnick stepped closer to get a better look at Marvelli. “I don’t know him,” he said.
Marvelli was desperately trying to get Loretta’s attention. “Loretta?” he kept saying over and over, straining his neck to get her to look at him. “Loretta? You came just in time. Nothing happened.”
But she didn’t want to talk to him ever again. There was no explaining this away. It was what it was, and it was more than she could ever forgive.
Krupnick’s gaze bounced back and forth from Loretta to Marvelli. “You two know each other?”
Loretta ignored him. She had enough to contend with.
Krupnick turned to Sunny. “Where’d you find this guy?”
“He was snooping around the plant. He said he had an appointment with you.” Sunny scraped some butterscotch off Marvelli’s thigh and licked her finger.
“I didn’t have any appointments with anyone today,” Krupnick said. The color was draining from his face.
“He’s a stranger, Arnie,” Sunny purred malevolently. “And so is she.” Sunny nodded at Loretta. “Remember what the I Ching told you: Beware of strangers. They mean you harm.”
A look of rage passed over Krupnick’s face. It was such a sudden and dramatic transformation, everyone in the room stopped and stared at him. It wasn’t anything like the smiling face on the Arnie and Barry’s logo. If Loretta had ever had any doubts that this was really Ira Krupnick, she was certain now. This was without question the face of a violent felon.
“What the hell do we do now?” he yelled to Sunny. “Kill them both?” As he said this, he was gazing around the room at the whips and chains and torture devices. He was looking for something he could use.
Instinctively Loretta felt the bottom of her purse, wanting to feel the reassuring heft of her gun. She squeezed the leather purse, but she wasn’t getting that old familiar feeling. There was nothing there. Then she remembered that she’d left her weapon back home in New Jersey. Since she wasn’t coming here on official business, she hadn’t bothered to make arrangements to bring her gun with her on the plane.
“Easy boy,” Sunny said to Krupnick, unfazed by his temper. “Remember what I told you about letting the mud settle so you can see the waters clearly? Don’t do something you’ll regret later.”
But Krupnick didn’t seem to be listening. He was glaring down at Marvelli, flexing his hands, warming up to do something.
Loretta slid her purse strap off her shoulder. She was ready to use it like a bolo around Krupnick’s neck if he made a move toward Marvelli.
Marvelli may be a worthless piece of crap, she thought, but he’s my defenseless worthless piece of crap.
The room was absolutely still, everyone waiting for Krupnick to go crazy. Loretta’s focus was so intent on Krupnick she didn’t hear the scratching noises right away. When she finally noticed them, she scanned the room and saw Dragon pawing at the back door. A normal dog would have been whining or barking to go out, but Dragon wasn’t normal. No one around here was.
Krupnick suddenly erupted, wheeling around and screaming at the dog. “What? What do you want?”
“He wants to go out,” Sunny said in a bored voice. She was still straddling Marvelli, scraping toppings off his skin and licking her fingers.
“Why?” Krupnick snapped. “Does he have to go pee?”
“No,” she said. “There must be someone on the other side.”
Krupnick’s scowl grew deeper. He went to the door, nudged Dragon aside with his leg, threw the dead bolt, and whipped the door open. Dragon raced outside.
A short surprised scream came in through the doorway. “Let go, you stupid fleabag. Ooowwww! Let go of me.”
The sound of struggling footsteps on a gravel path preceded Dragon’s reentry. He was tugging on something, digging his heels in and inching backward. It was an arm, a human arm in a jeans-jacket sleeve. The hand was holding something, but Dragon had the wrist in his mouth, and he was thrashing his head so violently Loretta couldn’t tell what the hand was holding. Dragon shook it loose, and it banged against the door and bounced into the room. A long-barrel revolver lay on the carpeting like a dead fish.
“Let go, dammit!” the person on the other end of the arm shouted as Dragon dragged her all the way into the dungeon. It was Vissa.
Marvelli and Krupnick called out simultaneously: “Vissa! What’re you doing here?”
Vissa was bent over sideways and wincing, trying to free herself from Dragon. “Call off the beast!” she demanded. “Call him off!”
Krupnick picked up her gun from the floor and shut the back door. He threw the bolt with a loud click, then looked at Sunny. “Call him off.”
“Dragon,” Sunny said, and immediately the dog let go. He trotted over to his mistress and flopped down on his rump next to her leg. She scooped up a finger full of butterscotch and jimmies and gave him a reward. Dragon noisily licked her finger clean. “Good dog,” she said. There was more feeling in her voice for the dog than she’d shown for any of the humans in the room.
“Vissa,” Marvelli said. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said, rubbing her wrist and looking daggers at the dog.
Loretta wondered if Vissa could recognize her with the wig on, but Vissa wasn’t paying attention to anyone but Krupnick. They were glaring hotly at one another.
“It’s been a long time, Vissa,” he said. All of a sudden he was calm. He seemed resigned. In an odd way it seemed as if he was sort of glad to see her. “How ya been?”
“Just shut up,” she snapped at him.
He grinned at her, shaking his head. “That’s what I always liked about you, Vissa. Pure, unadulterated, one hundred percent USDA-approved Jersey girl.”
“I said, shut up.” She was massaging her wrist with a vengeance, giving Krupnick a look that could kill. Loretta wondered if there was more to their history than she knew about.
“How’s tricks?” he asked.
“Don’t start with me,” she said, brandishing her index finger and its killer fingernail at him.
“I had no intention of starting with you … unless you want to.” He flashed a naughty grin.
She showed him another finger.
“Well, come on, Vissa. With all these beautiful women all in one place, it does sort of give a man ideas. How could it not?” He was looking at Loretta, Dorie, and Sunny.
Vissa made a face at him. “In your dreams, pal.”
He grinned at her. “In my dreams,” he repeated. “Yes, indeed.” He inspected her revolver admiringly, running his finger along the length of the barrel. “This is quite a gun you’ve got here, Vissa. Of course, you always were a pistol.”
“Are we interrupting something here?” Loretta blurted out. “I can leave if you’d like.”
Vissa shot her a dirty look, but Krupnick just smiled at her. “How can you interrupt when you’re an integral part of it all?” he said.
Marvelli struggled against his straps. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he snapped.
Krupnick ignored him.
“A foursome,” Dorie said, speculating out loud. “You’ve never done that, have you, Arnie?”
Sunny rolled her eyes. “Been there, done that.”
“Listen to me, Krupnick,” Marvelli said.
Krupnick’s contented expression changed as soon as he heard Marvelli using his real name, like instant Jekyll and Hyde. “Why the hell should I listen to you?” he snarled. “Why should I listen to anyone?”
“Because I’m talking to you, that’s why,” Marvelli shot back. “Leave right now while you still have a chance
. Leave the women here, and I’ll give you a head start. I promise.”
Krupnick started howling with laughter. He couldn’t stop. “You’re an original…. What’s your name?”
“Marvelli.”
“You are something else, man.” Krupnick was wiping tears from his eyes. But when his laughter trailed off, Mr. Hyde came back. “Six shots,” he said, shaking the pistol like a sun-crazed bandito. “One, two, three.” He pointed the barrel at Marvelli, Visa, and Loretta in turn. “Two shots each. Head start my butt, pal. Why not just eliminate the problem entirely? Huh?”
No one dared answer him back. His eyes were wild, and they all knew he was capable of all kinds of weirdness. He stroked his beard in a rough rhythm, thinking hard.
Loretta stood absolutely still, wishing to hell she had her gun with her.
“Okay, okay,” Krupnick finally said. “Here it is.” He was talking to Sunny. “We leave Vissa and Loretta here, and we take Jell-O Marvello or whatever his name is with us.”
“Why?” Marvelli demanded. “What do you need me for?”
Krupnick spun on his heel and leaned into Marvelli’s face. “Because, stupid, you’re the one most likely to lead the charge against me. I can’t leave you here. You’re the male, the threat. They’re not.” He pointed with the gun at Loretta and Vissa.
“And what exactly do we do with them?” Sunny nodded at the two female parole officers.
“Just leave them here,” Krupnick said.
“And you expect them to sit nicely with their hands in their laps?” Sunny said sarcastically.
Krupnick grinned under his bushy beard. “We leave Dragon.”
“No,” Sunny said flatly.
“Come on, Sunny,” Krupnick cajoled her. “He’ll be all right.”
“No.”
“Come on,” he said. “The I Ching said it was time for a change.”
Sunny didn’t respond.
“He’s right, Sunny,” Dorie said, trying to mediate. “Dragon will be fine.”
“How about us?” Loretta cut in. “Will we be fine?”
“Finer than if I stick around,” Krupnick said ominously. He was twisting the revolver in his hand as if he wanted to twirl it like a gunslinger.
Hot Fudge (A Loretta Kovacs thriller) Page 12
