A Portrait of Emily

by J. P. Bowie

  “Nothing that can’t be changed.” Anthony hoped he wasn’t sounding too eager. “I have an idea. Why don’t you come down to my place? We can kick back by the pool. No one’s there but me right now. We’d have it all to ourselves.”

  “Sounds wonderful. I can get off early tomorrow, so I could come mid afternoon— if that’s okay?”

  Anthony took one step forward and in the dark shadows of the parking lot, kissed Justin lightly on the lips. “The sooner, the better,” he whispered against Justin’s mouth. “Call me tomorrow. I’ll give you the address and directions.”

  Justin pulled him into a hard embrace. “This parking lot is not the romantic place I envisaged for our first kiss. Let’s save the good stuff for tomorrow. I’ll call you around noon. Goodnight, and drive carefully.”

  He kissed Anthony lightly on the cheek then walked toward his car.

  Anthony watched him leave before walking slowly to his own car. He sat in the darkness for a while, savoring the memory of Justin’s hard body and the promise of what tomorrow could bring. Then he started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot onto Santa Monica Boulevard.

  He was totally unaware that a black Mercedes, the occupant of which had been sitting in the darkness watching the exchange between him and Justin, was now gliding almost silently behind him. The car kept a safe distance behind Anthony’s, only picking up speed as it followed him onto the freeway heading south. For the next forty minutes, the car’s owner maintained that respectable distance, falling back even more as Anthony exited on Jamboree and headed for the Coast Highway—and home.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Peter woke up the next morning, and was immediately gripped by a strange feeling of apprehension. He lay on his back staring up at the ceiling, going over what Jeff had told him about the previous night. He was sure Jeff had spared him some of the details, but it still gave him the shakes when he thought of what might have happened.

  Beside him, Jeff stirred and slipped an arm across his chest, burrowing his face into Peter’s shoulder. Not wanting to wake him, Peter remained still, but his thoughts were troubled by this uneasy feeling he couldn’t let go.

  “What’s up?” Jeff mumbled, pulling him even closer.

  “Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

  “No.” Jeff sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong. I just have this weird feeling that won’t go away. Maybe it’s just because of what you told me last night or everything that’s gone down in the last few days. I keep thinking about the abuse Emily and Anthony suffered—and now this little girl you saved…”

  “It just makes me so damned mad,” Jeff said, “when I think of those rats taking advantage of these lost kids.” Jeff tightened his arms around Peter as he continued. “I’m thinking I haven’t been doing my bit to help recently. There’s a half way house in Santa Ana for runaways. I think I’ll volunteer my spare time there. They always need help and I’ve had the experience in LA.”

  “Sounds like a great idea. I’ll volunteer too.”

  “You will?”

  “You bet. I’m not going to sit home when I could be helping you.”

  “Great. I’ll call them later and offer our services.”

  “Can I offer you my services now?”

  Jeff’s reply was muffled as Peter pulled the sheet up over their heads.

  Later, as they sat in the kitchen having their morning coffee, the phone rang. It was McKenna.

  “We struck gold last night Stevens,” he said, his deep voice sounding excited. “That guy, Feldman, confessed to the Hastings murder.”

  “What?” Jeff almost choked on his mouthful of coffee.

  “Yeah. He opened up like a flood gate when we started questioning him. Said his daughter had been a runaway. He’d been looking for her for months then she showed up one night, pretty beaten up. She told him she’d been part of this kiddy prostitution ring and that one of the customers had gotten violent with her. He’d taken her to a doctor who’d patched her up then they let her go. She was savvy enough to know her bosses wouldn’t want her back in that state so she went home, thank God.”

  “And it was Hastings who beat her up?”

  “According to Feldman, the kid pointed out Hastings’ office as the place she was taken to, so he went there, he says, to scare Hastings with exposure. They got into a fight and Feldman grabbed the first thing he could find—the letter opener—and stabbed Hastings with it.”

  “Jesus,” Jeff breathed. “So that takes care of the Hastings case. What about the guy who delivered the girl last night?”

  “So far he’s not talking, but we’ve got enough on him to book him on felony charges. He’s not going anywhere.”

  “And Feldman?”

  “The DA’s considering involuntary manslaughter charges. There’s a certain amount of sympathy for the guy, considering what Hastings did to his daughter.”

  Jeff put the phone down after his conversation with McKenna. “Well, there’s the Hastings case solved.” He filled Peter in on the details. “I’ll call Johnny so he can tell Emily and Anthony their father’s murderer has been apprehended. Boy, that’s a load off my mind knowing that all the people we suspected are in the clear—including Jerry.”

  Peter was looking at him, his eyes strangely unfocused.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Something. Anthony—call Anthony, now.”

  Jeff gripped Peter’s arm. “You’ve gone white as a sheet.”

  “I just got this feeling of danger.”

  “I’ll call him right now.”

  The phone at the Hastings’ residence rang three times before the answering machine picked up. Jeff left a brief message asking Anthony to call him right away then he pulled Anthony’s cell number from his brief case and dialed that number. His call went to voice mail.

  “Damn. I wonder if he stayed in LA with Justin last night.”

  “Do you still have Justin’s number?”

  “Yes, I wrote it down—here it is.” He dialed the number and breathed a sigh of relief as he heard Justin answer.

  “Hi, Justin. You don’t know me. My name is Jeff. I’m a friend of Anthony’s. Is he there by any chance?”

  “Uh…no, he’s not,” Justin replied with just a trace of wariness. “Why do you ask?”

  “Don’t worry. I’m not a jealous lover or anything like that. Just a friend.”

  “Well, he’s still not here. I’m supposed to call him around noon today and get directions to his house. Is something wrong?”

  “I may be mistaken—and I hope I am, but I have a feeling he’s in some kind of trouble. When did he leave you?”

  “Around eleven. But he called me when he got home. That would have been just before midnight. We talked for a little while then he said he’d see me tomorrow—that is, today.”

  “Listen, my friend Peter and I are going to drive over to his house and make sure he’s all right. We’ll have him call you when we talk to him.”

  “I’d appreciate that. No wait. Give me his address and directions. I’ll drive down early so if there is a problem I can be there too.”

  Jeff gave him the information then hung up. “That Justin seems like a nice guy,” he remarked as he put the phone down. “Okay,” he added seeing the worried look on Peter’s face. “Let’s go.”

  § § § §

  Anthony opened his eyes slowly. His head was throbbing so violently he was almost afraid to move it. What the hell had happened? His last memory was of talking to Justin after he’d returned home before walking upstairs to his room. Then…nothing.

  He was lying naked on top of his bed, his arms and legs outstretched. With a gasp of horror, he realized he was tied to the bed. Thin cords bound his wrists and ankles and were attached to the bed posts. He struggled weakly against the cords, but soon fell back with a groan as the pain in his head increased.

  “So…finally awake, are you?”
>
  Anthony jumped at the sound of the voice and peered into the dimly lit room. The drapes were closed and what daylight filtered through served only to partially let him see the silhouette of a short, broad shouldered man standing by his bed.

  “Who the hell are you?” His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton balls.

  The man turned on the bedside lamp and Anthony’s eyes widened as he looked at a naked, barrel chested body covered in red hair, incongruously at odds with the hair on his head and his moustache obviously dyed black.

  “Bob Thomson. Don’t you recognize me? I own the building where Joey had his studio. I was his landlord and one time boyfriend before he met you. I tried to pick you up in Rebels one night and you refused me. None too politely either, the way I remember it.”

  “So because I was rude to you, you’ve got me trussed up naked on my bed? How did you get in here anyhow?”

  “Easy, really. You forgot to turn on the alarm, so when you were on the phone with your new boyfriend, I broke in downstairs and waited for you to finish your phone call. You were so wrapped up in the conversation you didn’t hear a thing.”

  “Well, you better get the hell out of here. My family will be back any second.”

  “No they won’t, I’m afraid. You see, I’ve been watching these goings on for a few days now. Ever since I killed Joey and saw the police release you. I followed you and your fine looking friends all the way back here and I’ve been stalking you ever since. I was even at your Daddy’s funeral. Surprised?”

  Anthony felt a cold stab of fear as he looked at the man. So Jeff had been right to warn him of this danger—and he had totally ignored him.

  Jesus, what a fool I was.

  “Yeah, I was sitting at the back of the chapel and some blond guy made a pass at me. Then I saw you drive your Mommy to the airport yesterday. I followed you up to LA where you had a date with your new lover boy. I saw it all.”

  Bob was looking down at him, leering lasciviously, and stroking his hard penis as he did so. With his other hand, he caressed Anthony’s chest.

  “Joey was right,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “You do have a beautiful body.”

  Anthony grimaced. “What is it you want?”

  “Stupid question. I want you. I want a taste of what Joey died for.” Bob licked his lips then mounted the bed and sat astride Anthony’s struggling body. Bob grinned. Bringing his face close to Anthony’s he whispered, “I’m going to fuck you.”

  “No!” Anthony struggled against his bonds, revolted, and not a little terrified by the thought of what was about to happen.

  “Oh, struggle all you want. It just makes it more fun for me.” Bob’s laughter was a little off kilter. “I could have done it when you were out cold, but I wanted you to feel it too. I’ve been waiting for hours for you to come round. I must have given you too much of that drug I injected you with. You’ve been out for ages, but now—it’s show time.”

  He clamped his lips over Anthony’s, forcing his tongue into the young man’s mouth. Anthony bit down hard and Bob screamed then punched Anthony in the face.

  “You little bastard!” he yelled, his face inches from Anthony’s. “Anymore of that and you’ll be unconscious again. Then I can do anything I want.”

  Anthony heaved himself upwards, trying to dislodge Bob, but the man had a vice like grip on Anthony’s torso, and his legs being tied down gave Anthony little leverage.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because you took my Joey from me.”

  “But I never even heard him mention your name. I didn’t know he was involved with you.”

  Bob’s expression hardened at those words and Anthony knew he’d struck a nerve. Of course it was the truth. Joey would have forgotten Bob even before he met Anthony, but the man had probably always nursed the hope that one day, even if it were only for financial reasons, Joey would want to come back to him.

  He shuddered as Bob smiled lasciviously and thrust his cock towards Anthony’s mouth rubbing it against his firmly closed lips.

  “Open wide,” Bob cooed. “And no biting or you’re dead.”

  Anthony could feel cold steel pressed against his neck and realized with a shudder that Bob had a knife in his free hand. He gagged with revulsion as Bob’s penis entered his mouth.

  “That’s it, just keep your teeth to yourself and you’ll do just fine,” Bob’s voice began to thicken as his excitement mounted. He thrust deeper and Anthony’s eyes bulged with terror as he felt himself choke, his throat unwilling to accommodate Bob’s erection. He started to cough and Bob withdrew his swollen cock.

  “You give lousy head,” he muttered.

  § § § §

  Peter jittered with impatience as they sped up Coast Highway in Jeff’s car.

  “Stop that,” Jeff said. “You jumping up and down isn’t going to get us there any faster.”

  “Sorry. It’s just that this feeling is driving me nuts. It won’t go away. What on earth causes this do you suppose?”

  “We should probably have you checked out by a reputable psychic. I’ve never really believed in this stuff, but being around you has changed my mind.”

  “Well, it never happened before I was in the coma. When it started to happen, I thought it was the trauma with Phillip and the bang on the head I took when we were attacked. But it’s never gone away. In fact, it seems to be getting stronger.”

  “Bang on the head?” Jeff laughed wryly. “That’s a masterful piece of understatement if ever I heard one.”

  “Well, you know what I mean.”

  They both groaned simultaneously as they saw flashing police lights on the road ahead of them.

  “Must be an accident.” Jeff sighed. “Damn, this will slow us down.”

  “Can we go around?”

  “No, look at the tail back. Everyone’s rubber necking trying to see what’s up.”

  They slowed to a crawl and Peter’s impatience mounted as they seemed to be making no headway. The feeling of dread was now so overpowering he wanted to crawl out of his skin. He fell back in his seat, nauseated. Jeff glanced at him anxiously.

  “Are you okay, Peter?”

  “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Why don’t we call Gloria? Maybe she can have Johnny get over to the house ahead of us. I think Emily and Jerry are there too.”

  “Good idea,” Jeff said, handing Peter his cell phone. Unfortunately, no one was at home at the Pedersen residence. Peter listened to Gloria’s chirpy message on their answering machine. He left a message and his cell number just in case someone came home.

  “Maybe Justin will get there ahead of us,” he said, closing Jeff’s cell. “God, can you imagine if nothing’s really wrong and we all show up pounding on the door. Anthony will think we’re all crazy.”

  “Well, at worst, we’ll just look like nervous nellies. But from the looks of you, I don’t think it’s going to be a false alarm.”

  The traffic ahead finally cleared and they picked up speed again, arriving at Anthony’s house about a half hour later that they had intended. There were no cars in the driveway as they pulled up outside the front door.

  Anthony squirmed as Bob’s wet lips trailed down his torso and rested on his limp penis. Bob began to suck like a hungry child then grunted in disgust as Anthony failed to respond.

  “Can’t get it up for me, eh? Well, let’s see how you like this.” He reached over and retrieved a tube of lubricant he had placed on the nightstand. He began to smear it on his cock and poked his lubed finger into Anthony’s anus.

  “I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked.” He leered down at Anthony who gritted his teeth and glared at his assailant.

  “At least use a condom for God’s sake.”

  “Not on your life. I hate those things. Now, as they say, your ass is mine. I’m going to untie your legs so I can get to it. No funny stuff or you will definitely be the worse for it.”

  Placing the knife on the nightstand, he lean
ed back and untied Anthony’s right ankle, then his left. He hoisted Anthony’s legs over his shoulders and with his hand on his rigid cock, he began to guide it between Anthony’s legs. He froze, as the sound of the door bell ringing echoed through the house.

  “Help!” Anthony yelled. “Somebody help me!”

  “Shut up, you little bastard,” Bob fumed, clamping a hand over Anthony’s mouth. But Anthony, taking advantage of the position he was in, tightened his legs around Bob’s neck and held him in a paralyzing head-lock. Bob grunted, pulling at Anthony’s legs while he tried to reach for the knife.

  Anthony, using the cords that still bound his wrists as leverage, squeezed harder, and heard with satisfaction Bob’s breathe becoming labored. Then with all his strength he flung Bob sideways off the bed. The man crashed to the floor, dazed and momentarily unable to get up.

  “Help!” Anthony yelled again. “Help me!”

  Jeff and Peter stood outside the house looking around as they waited for an answer to their constant door bell ringing.

  “Did you hear something?” Peter asked.

  “Yeah, something. Did you?”

  “Sounded like a shout, I think.” He walked around to the side of the house. “Look here, Jeff. There’s a broken window pane.”

  “Shit. I knew that kid was in trouble.”

  He pushed the window open. As they scrambled through, they heard a car turn into the driveway behind them.

  “Anthony!” Jeff shouted, striding through the living room. “Are you here?”

  From upstairs they could now both plainly hear the call for help. There was a pounding on the front door and Peter rushed to open it as Jeff sprinted up the staircase. Peter flung the door open and he and Justin stared at each other for a moment.

  “You must be Justin.” Peter grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside. “Jeff went upstairs to—” He stopped talking as Justin pushed past him and rushed upstairs “Okay…” Peter followed in Justin’s wake.

  “The damned door is locked,” Jeff announced as they reached him.

  “Let’s knock the damn thing down then,” Justin yelled. “Anthony, are you all right?”