“Well,” she says, tracing the kitchen counter seductively, “I would put on a latex glove, dip my finger into a little bit of water, and then touch the coke, so it would stick. Then I would press my finger into your rectum. You’ll get an immediate rush. But that’s not the fun part. After that, I’ll insert another finger and spread them, allowing room for a syringe, preloaded with some water and more cocaine, to fit and be injected into the wall of your rectum. While you experience the increased rush, I do a strip tease, leading up to getting the animal out of its cage and beginning my spiking routine. By the time I’m finished, you’ll have reached your climax, and then I’ll allow you to relax for a few moments before it’s your turn to satisfy my desires.”
Zach hesitates. “I’m not sure how I feel about becoming an intravenous user.”
Wendy nods. “I understand. But this is something that you can do only when I’m giving you a spiking experience. Try it once. If you don’t like it, you’ll never have to do it again, but I have yet to find anyone that dislikes the effects.”
He considers for a moment then says, “Why the hell not. I’m always willing to try new experiences.”
Wendy smiles again as she follows him into his bedroom. “Good. You’ll need to get some cocaine out and take off your clothes.”
Zach pours some cocaine on a mirror on his nightstand then removes his clothes. Wendy does as she told him and administers the first round of cocaine. The second it is absorbed into his system he says, “Wow, what a rush.”
“Alright, now a slight prick, then the cool flow of the liquid,” Wendy murmurs.
As she starts the injection she smiles, knowing that instead of the water and cocaine, the potassium chloride in the syringe will take its full effect in less than ten minutes. After that, his heart attack will be over before she even finishes removing all of her clothing. She removes the syringe and her fingers and Zach takes a moment, then rolls over and sits up on the bed. Wendy begins a slow, sensual strip tease, watching Zach’s increasing arousal intently. When she allows her dress to fall to the floor, exposing her matching bra and panties, Zach starts to masturbate. Wendy unclasps her bra and lets it fall to the floor, but keeps herself covered with her arms, biding her time. After a moment, Zach starts to rub his chest, and she notices he is beginning to sweat profusely. She ignores his signs of distress and continues with her strip tease enticements.
“Hold on a minute,” Zach says, wheezing, “I don’t feel right.”
“That’s just what happens with intravenous cocaine injections, baby. You’ll be okay,” Wendy says, exposing more of her breasts.
He shakes his head and stands up from the bed, clasping his chest and heading toward the bathroom. She stops her sexy dance, watching him stumble and then fall forward on the bedroom carpet. Silently, she starts to get dressed, knowing without even having to check that Zach Rawlins is dead. She takes a moment to scan the room to make sure nothing pointing to her being there is left behind. She double checks the capped syringe to make sure it is inside the latex glove and that both are in her purse. Checking herself, she makes sure all of her clothing is on, then glances at the scene.
Cocaine is still on the bedroom nightstand with Zach’s clothes neatly stacked just as he left them. She surveys the room to make sure it looks like Zach came home, snorted some cocaine, and then was getting ready to take a shower. She considers her options and decides to go turn the shower on for added effect. Taking the other latex glove out of her purse, she turns the shower on and then walks out the front door. Once outside, she takes off the glove, wraps it around the other glove, and places the whole rolled up piece of evidence in her purse. She glances around as she gets in her car, then drives away smiling, completely unnoticed.
***
Wendy pulls into a fast food drive through, orders a quick meal of burger and fries, and then heads to a neighborhood park to eat in the sunshine. When she finishes her burger, she places the latex gloves and syringe in the bag with the other wrappers and throws the whole thing into the park’s trash. She strolls around the park for a few minutes until she spots a group of teenagers playing basketball and listening to music. She decides to drop her trac phone nearby, knowing one of the kids will find it and use it until the minutes are gone. She chuckles, knowing that if the phone number is ever investigated any corresponding telephone calls won’t make sense to investigators and the phone will quickly be eliminated as any kind of evidence. As she stands with the sun on her face she closes her eyes, basking in its warmth serenely, satisfied Jill will now be free from her demons and financially secure once again. Wendy opens her eyes, admiring how everything looks sharper; the grass greener, the sky bluer. She marvels at her ability to continue to conjure up unique methods of murder that won’t implicate her, or anyone else for that matter.
As she makes her way back to her car, she wonders how long she can continue to be creative before she’ll have to use one of her previous methods. She considers, trying to calculate the risks involved with repeating a similar pattern. Dismissing the risks with a shake of her head, she gets into her car for the thirty-minute drive back to the penthouse. During the drive she thinks about those she has helped to escape the trials and tribulations they were unable to overcome alone. A sense of accomplishment, profound satisfaction, and immense pride well up in her as she recognizes her lifelong destiny is finally being manifested through her performance as an Angel of Mercy for the downtrodden and abused. For a while she simply basks in the glow of her own success.
Before she arrives back at her house, she decides it would probably be a good idea to get rid of her hat and shoes, so she stops at a gas station in San Diego, fills her tank, and leaves her hat in the women’s bathroom garbage. After returning to the condo, she breaks the heel off of one of her shoes and drops them down the garbage chute, knowing the dumpster will be emptied the next day. Satisfied she has tied up all of her loose ends she pours herself a glass of merlot and allows herself to feel the adrenaline rush of knowing she has successfully done it again.
Making her way out to the patio, she sits and gazes out at the Pacific Ocean, contemplating Jill’s reaction when someone finds Zach’s body in a day or two. Thinking of Jill, she suddenly realizes that time has gotten away from her. She quickly dresses in a business attire pantsuit, grabs her cell phone, and heads to the hotel to get Jill.
As she waits in the lobby, she checks her voicemail and texts, responding to Bonnie’s text first, since it seems urgent. Wendy’s reply lets Bonnie know she will call her later tonight to discuss the important pending business Bonnie needs to cover. Bonnie responds that any time prior to eleven o’clock would be fine.
Jill arrives in the lobby promptly and gives Wendy a big hug, then stands back and takes her hands, giving her a once-over. “Wow! I love what you’re wearing. Where did you get it?”
“At Beauty Boutique Clothing, which is where we are headed right now. And Lora, who squared me away, is waiting to help you. Believe me, she is fantastic. You’re going to look great.”
“I can’t wait to see what she’ll come up with, because you look fabulous.”
“Thank you. Let’s go,” Wendy says and guides Jill out the door.
***
Lora meets them at the door and invites them into the store.
“Hello! Nice to see you again Wendy,” Lora says, kissing both of Wendy’s cheeks. “And you must be Jill. I’m Lora.” The two women shake hands, and then Lora launches into a bunch of style preference questions. Jill answers them all happily, and Lora says, “Okay, I’ve got some ideas now. You’re a size four?”
Jill nods. “If it’s a true four.”
Lora bustles around, pulling clothing options, and hands Jill several high-to-low dresses in different colors. “These are the ones I’d like you to try first. Maybe the teal?”
Jill simply nods again and heads into the dressing room. When she comes back out, Wendy exclaims, “My God! You’re gorgeous.”
Lora w
atches Jill as she turns different ways in the three sided mirror. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s terrific.”
“Good, because it’s a perfect fit for your body type,” Lora says.
Wendy laughs and tells Lora, “Come on, anything will look good on a body like hers.”
Jill feels herself blush for the first time in a long time and looks at the floor.
Wendy catches her reaction and asks, “Honey, why are you embarrassed?”
“Oh, I’m not. I just… I haven’t had anyone compliment me like that recently.”
Lora smiles and jumps in right on time. “Jill, you’re going to be super easy to outfit, even without alterations. Your body is proportionally perfect.” She pulls a few more outfits off the racks that include pants suits, blouse and pant combinations, and some more casual combinations. After about two hours, Jill has settled on several options. “These are all wonderful. But I need a couple of outfits for job interviews.”
“Of course you do,” Wendy tells her. “Don’t worry. If you’re going to get back on your feet, you’ll need to have a fully functional wardrobe.”
Jill nods. “Yes, but my point is, my priority is going to be getting a job, and if I get too far in debt I’ll never get out. I should probably focus more on business attire.”
Lora smiles. “You can get everything you’ve chosen and more, dear. All you’ve picked out today is fully paid for because you need them to get back on your feet. And speaking of feet, we don’t have a huge selection of shoes but I think we can find one or two pairs here to get you through for a short while. We’re trying to incorporate a shoe designer section into each store…” She trails off, disappearing, and then returns with shoe boxes.
Jill stands, stunned, as Lora matches most of the outfits with three pairs of shoes. With these additions, Jill is taken care of for a while. Lora removes the tags, bags everything for Jill, and sends them on their way.
“Thank you so much. Both of you,” Jill says, and begins to cry tears of thankfulness as she leaves the store with Wendy. Wendy sits with her for a moment in the car, patting and offering tissues, and then Jill pulls herself together.
“Would you like to get a drink and some food?” Wendy asks, and Jill nods gratefully.
When they arrive at the bar, Wendy orders a margarita and Jill orders a whiskey sour. As they talk, Wendy keeps remembering the expression on Zach’s face as she performed her seduction routine and wondering when the last time he had looked at his wife with that kind of lust in his eyes had been.
What a worthless pig, Wendy thinks, watching the light in Jill’s eyes as she talks about her previous career, I hope she doesn’t make the same mistake on the next guy. Jill keeps chatting and Wendy considers how long it will be before she gets the news of Zach’s heart attack. She fervently hopes everything Jill explained about their financial preparations is correct, knowing that if it is, Jill will be set for the rest of her life. The thought pleases Wendy because she had a major hand in getting Jill back to her normal lifestyle.
Suddenly Jill stops midsentence and looks hard at Wendy. After a moment of silence, she asks, “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Deal with people like me who have made complete messes of their lives. Doesn’t it wear you down?”
“First of all those so called ‘messes’ aren’t created solely by the people I work with, because they’re the victim, not the instigator. Second, I do this work for those that are being victimized, not for myself. As a survivor, I understand the hopelessness each victim feels because I’ve felt it myself. The most frustrating things to me are seeing what needs to be done and not being able to convince the victim of the dangers of inaction, and also watching how our governmental and judicial systems provide more protection for the abuser than the victim. It’s frustrating at times, but at other times it is the most rewarding work I could ever imagine anyone having the privilege of being involved with. It’s not really a job to me, it’s a way to give back. My challenge is to stay focused on the positives and not get bogged down in the negatives.”
“It just seems like the need for someone like you is so immense, so I guess what I meant was, with all the demand, how do you maintain a balance in life and your sanity?”
Wendy chuckles. “Well, my sanity has always been questionable,” she jokes, getting a genuine smile from Jill, but then adds, “Having been in a position similar to yours, I understand things that others may not. It’s a passion in my life to help those who are walking the road I’ve already journeyed down.”
Jill is quiet for a while, then nods. “Thank you again for everything you’ve done for me, Wendy. I now recognize my obligation to help someone else once I get back on my feet, and I promise I’ll fulfill it as soon as I can.”
“I know you will,” Wendy says, taking Jill’s hand, “and that is what makes it possible for each of us to become survivors despite our trying circumstances.”
CHAPTER 3
The discovery
Zachery Rawlins misses several appointments at his office the next morning and his staff leaves several call back messages. When he also misses several city council functions, the local police are notified and dispatched to check on him at his home. Since there is no indication of anything being amiss and his car is in the driveway, the officers leave a note on the door requesting that Zach contact his office, then notify dispatch that they were unable to locate him. The mayor checks with the chief of police shortly after and is informed of the officer’s lack of findings.
Befuddled, the mayor says, “Well, Chief, please send someone out there again. If there still isn’t a response, try his wife, Jill.”
The chief agrees, and another officer makes the trip to Rawlins home. When the officer finds nothing has changed, Officer Irma Vasquez calls Jill who lets the call go to voicemail, fearing it’s Zach using a number she doesn’t recognize. Officer Vasquez leaves a voicemail, which Jill listens to quickly. Jill immediately returns the call. When Officer Vasquez explains the situation, Jill is concerned.
“Officer, Zach never parks his car in the driveway. The spare key is hidden under a fake rock near the front step. Please go check and see if everything is okay,” Jill says, giving authorization for the LAPD to enter the house. “And please let me know what you find out.”
The officers open the front door and calls out, announcing they are in the residence. They continue to announce themselves as they check from room to room. When they reach the master bedroom they can hear the shower running and call out again, still without a response, as they enter the master bedroom. The first thing they see is a white powder on the nightstand, then one circles the bed to find Zach’s naked body on the carpet. They quickly check for a pulse and immediately recognize he is cold to the touch and deceased. The officer’s radio for a supervisor, investigators, and the forensic team, then secure the residence.
Upon arrival, the supervisor is briefed and immediately telephones the shift commander who relays the message up the chain of command until the chief is briefed on the initial findings. The chief telephones the mayor with the information, and the mayor decides he will call Jill himself. When Jill see’s the mayor’s office is calling her, she immediately feels sick to her stomach but decides to answer the call anyway.
“Jill, I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” Mayor Clifton begins, “the police found Zach on the bedroom floor in the master bedroom, deceased. From the initial findings it appears he may have had a heart attack. They also found what appears to be cocaine on his nightstand. They need to speak with you as soon as possible. Where are you?”
Jill is speechless for a moment. “I-I’m in San Diego. I have been for about a week now. Where do I need to go to speak with the police?”
He replies, “Don’t you worry about a thing. Stay where you are and I’ll have the police come to you. Where should I send them?”
She gives him the name of the hotel and her room number. “Have them
come straight up please. I don’t want to deal with any media just yet.”
“Of course, Jill. If there’s anything I can do, you know how to reach me,” Mayor Clifton replies, and they terminate the call.
After they hang up, Jill immediately calls Wendy’s office and explains to Wendy everything she was just told.
“Oh, Jill, I’m so sorry. Would you like me to come to the hotel and be there while you speak with the detectives?” Wendy asks, infusing her voice with concern.
“No, thank you. I don’t want you tied up in this investigation and media frenzy.”
Wendy pauses. “You know, I’ll be pulled into it anyway because your room is registered in my name and paid for with my credit card.”
“You’re right! I’m so sorry. I’ll do my best to keep your name out of everything, and I’ll ask for the detectives’ discretion. Hopefully I’ll get some cooperation,” Jill says.
“Honey, don’t worry about it. All I did was to help keep you safe and your whereabouts confidential. At this point there is no need to keep your location a secret except for you to be able to hide from the press for a few more days. If you need me just call, and I’ll be right there.”
Jill huffs out a breath. “Thanks, Wendy. I really appreciate it, but you have already done so much for me. I’ll handle the police.”
***
Jill answers the knock on her door to find Detective Briggs and Detective England, both of whom she has met before.
“Hello, detectives. Please, come in,” she says, gesturing for them to make themselves comfortable.
“Hello, Mrs. Rawlins. We’re so very sorry for your loss,” Briggs says as the three of them settle in for a conversation. “I’m sure you’ve already heard about the situation, since you’re so well connected. We need to ask you some personal questions. Do you feel up to speaking with us today?”
Jill takes a breath. “Yes, of course. Ask away.”
Unrestrained Behavior: The Pleasure and Risk of Choice (The 'Un'missable Series Book 3) Page 3
