by Polly Iyer
After she left, Marsha said, “You want to tell me why you did that?”
“You don’t know me, but trust me, okay?” She watched the younger woman size her up. “Please.”
“If it were anyone other than Darlene, I probably would have said something. But I don’t like her, never did, and I’m a good judge of character. I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t want to know.” She checked her watch. “It’s almost time for your appointment. You’d better go.” Marsha got up. “I have a feeling we won’t see each other here again, will we?”
“I don’t know. Maybe not. But I have your card.”
Marsha turned a slanted eye to study Tawny. She drained her wine, picked up her tote, and left the ballroom without another word. Tawny watched her leave. That was close, she thought. She got the information she came for. Time to get the hell out of Dodge. Screw the appointment.
Tawny hoped she didn’t run into Colin on her way out. She’d head for the door, and if Charles made a stink, she’d run. She got to the second landing and ran right into Benny.
“Tawny, just the person I wanted to see.”
“I’m a little early, Benny. I was going to step outside for a breath of air, then head for the room.”
“Nonsense. I’ll escort you. You can relax there. Your appointment is waiting. He was early too.”
He cinched her arm and led her to the same room she occupied Monday night. He opened the door. She didn’t see anyone. Must be in the bedroom. She guessed this guy was strictly business, leaving the expensive bottle of Dom Perignon in the cooler without opening it. A plate of hors d’oeuvres and a vegetable tray with three different dips sat on the table. Benny must have realized she didn’t eat caviar, because she didn’t see any.
He stood there, watching her.
Trapped!
She should have kept going instead of allowing Benny to take control. She’d wait until he left and sneak out. Resigned, she put her satchel in the closet and walked into the bedroom. Empty. “I thought you said my appointment was already here.”
“He is,” Benny said. “May I introduce Benny Cooper, Ms. Dell.”
Tawny almost laughed until she saw Benny was serious. “Benny, we had a deal. No freebies for the boss.”
“That’s right. This is no freebie. Your money is in your mailbox, courtesy of tonight’s client, Benny Cooper.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Unexpected Client
An ominous feeling settled on Linc as he and Dennis drove back to the city. The description of the black man standing around Rick Martell’s office didn’t ring a bell, it gonged. “Dennis, when you were running down the people who worked for Cooper, didn’t you mentioned the Cockney who worked in Cooper’s office, Colin what’s his name, had a black boyfriend?”
“Yeah. Big guy, ex-boxer. Reggie Cart’s his name. Has a record for assault with a deadly weapon.” Dennis took his hands off the wheel and put up his fists. “His hands. He attacked someone while he was still boxing professionally. You think…”
“Yeah, I do. Now why would he be at Martell’s?”
“I don’t know, but the description sure fits. Why do you think Tawny was there?”
Linc remembered what Harry said. “Tawny knows Russo. Martell worked for Russo. Maybe Martell handled her money, even set up the off-shore account.”
“Plausible,” Dennis said.
Linc got on his cell and called the captain, explained the situation and why he wanted to keep the murder of Rick Martell quiet, at least for a few hours. The captain listened and agreed. Said he’d do what he could to smother the news. Then Linc called Harry. The call went to voicemail.
“Harry, call me back ASAP.” Linc closed his phone. “What bothers me is Tawny’s at Cooper’s tonight. If Cart saw her at Martell’s, it means she saw him and can identify him as a possible suspect in Martell’s murder.”
“Unless she’s the shooter.”
Linc shrugged that off. “No way. I bet she went there to find out how much she’ll have to pay the IRS.”
“Well, my man, if Colin’s boyfriend killed Martell and Dell saw him, she’s in big trouble.”
As Linc tried Harry again, he noticed brake lights ahead. “Went to voicemail.”
“Uh-oh. Something’s going on up there.” Dennis radioed in to find out. “Four cars.”
“What rotten timing.” All three lanes were at a dead stop.
“If you agree she’s in trouble,” Dennis said, “call for the raid now.”
“If she can pin the murder on this Cart guy, what’s to stop him from silencing her the minute we bust in? I’ll call to warn her.”
“What if she’s in the middle―” Dennis looked sheepishly at him.
“Let’s hope not.” Linc didn’t want to think of that, couldn’t think of it. He’d programmed Tawny’s number to speed-dial. The call went to voicemail. “Doesn’t anyone answer their phones?”
“This traffic is a mess, Linc. I don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck here. I’d put on the siren, but it wouldn’t do any good. We’re too far back.”
Linc tried Harry again. Nothing. He tried Tawny. Same. He wanted to make sure she was all right.
“You’re sweet on her, aren’t you?” Dennis asked.
Linc rubbed his temple. “I must be out of my fucking mind.”
“Happens,” Dennis said.
“What? Falling for a hooker or being out of my mind?”
“Both.”
* * * * *
Tawny knew she should have broken from Benny’s grasp and run for the door. “What are you doing?”
“I’m paying for your services. Does it really matter who pays you? My money’s as good as anyone’s.” He nuzzled into her neck and whispered, “Let me tell you what I like.”
He did, and Tawny said, “I feel like you tricked me. But you’re right. You’re paying, and you should get your money’s worth.”
A moment of guilt struck her like a clap of thunder, and Walsh was the reason. She had the information he wanted. Sarah Marshall worked here. It still didn’t make the man in front of her, breathing like he’d completed a marathon, guilty of murder. And now she was about to engage in a sexual encounter she’d rather avoid. Because of you, Walsh. Then why was she feeling like she was betraying him? Betraying herself?
Benny’s voice brought her back. “Let me help you with your dress.”
Once he took it off, she was committed. She pictured Walsh shrugging, his voice clear in her head. It’s what you do, Tawny. Did. Do, Walsh. Thanks to you.
She turned around and Benny unzipped the back of her dress. It fell to the floor. Facing him again, she noticed Benny’s gaze riveted on her like a hunter locks on a ten-point buck. Tawny let him ogle. She wore a lacy black bra and black thong. Nothing else except black sling-backs. Men liked women naked with high heels—it was a dominatrix thing—and Benny possessed all the characteristics of a submissive, or at least a switch. She stepped out of her dress, unsnapped the front clasp of her strapless bra, and let it fall to the floor. Crossing her arms in front of her, she circled her nipples with her index fingers, hardening them so they peaked to attention. Benny watched, mesmerized.
She’d done this hundreds of times before. Fifteen years’ worth, and yet tonight seemed surreal, as if it were the first time. Nerves. Who’d have thought she’d have them? She didn’t want to do Benny. She wanted out of this room and out of this life.
“My God, you’re beautiful,” he said.
Oh, boy. “You like what you see?”
Benny gulped. “Like? I’m getting hard looking at you.” He started to move toward her, but she put her hand, palm out, on his chest.
“Not yet, Benny. You’re my slave. Now stand there. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Hmm, slave.” His voice trembled. “I like that.”
Yup, submissive, Tawny thought. When she started to take off his jacket, he stopped her. Fishing in his pocket, he took out nipple clamps.
Tawny plucked them from his fingers and tossed them on the sofa. “Very nice, but I never use toys unless I have to.” She glanced at the swelling protrusion in his crotch. “And unless that’s a dildo in your pants, I doubt you’ll need artificial incentives.”
“That’s because two of the most perfect breasts I’ve ever seen are staring me in the face.” He leaned down, pursed his mouth like a goldfish.
“Patience, Benny. Now keep your hands and mouth out of my way for a while, okay? You’ll have your turn.”
“Whatever you say, Tawny. I’m your slave. Ooh, I love the sound of that.”
I can do this one more time. Just one more time.
Benny practically drooled in anticipation when she unbuttoned his shirt, one button at a time, and pinched his nipples. “Isn’t my touch better than nipple clips?”
“Oh, God, yes, yes. You have glorious fingers, like flower petals brushing my skin.”
She leaned down and pulled the front panels of his shirt around her head, not unlike a photographer hiding under the black cover, and sucked hard. Benny moaned.
“We have a ways to go before you should be moaning. A long way.” She played a little longer, then peeled off his shirt.
He wasn’t in bad shape, a little hairy for her tastes, but acceptable for a man of fifty. She unbuckled his belt. He moaned again when she dropped his pants.
“I like them hung up,” he said.
“Servant work costs extra. I don’t do servant work.”
Benny’s breathing ratcheted up a notch. “Okay. I can live with that.” He stepped out of his pants. His erection shot through the opening of his boxers. “I spilled burning coffee on my cock. There’s a blister, so you have to be careful.”
“I’m not heavy into S&M, not that I’d classify bursting a blister on a man’s member S&M.” She took his hand and led him to the bedroom. “Why don’t you relax? Here, sit down on the bed.” When he did, she lifted his legs onto the mattress and stuffed a pillow beneath his knees. “Do you like it rough or easy?”
“Easy to start. Then I like it rough. But don’t forget the blister.”
“I promise, I won’t.” She tweaked her nipples again. Benny gawked, licking his lips. “Oh, Benny, it feels so good. But it’ll feel better when you do it.”
Benny rose and reached for her, but she signaled him off. “What’s the rush? Don’t you enjoy looking at me?”
“I could look at you all day. You’re a Goddess. I’ve always wanted you, but try as I might, I could never get you. This is a dream come true. The ultimate. I’ll pay double for another hour. Triple.”
“You won’t want another hour when I finish with you. You’ll be so exhausted you’ll need to check into rehab to get some rest.”
Benny’s hand went to his dick. “My cock is ready to explode, and you haven’t even touched it yet.”
She perched on the edge of the bed. He reached for her breasts. This time, she let him fondle her. She had to admit he had a nice touch, but he was too eager, and at the rate Benny was panting, he wouldn’t last long. Then she could get the hell out of there.
She slipped off his shorts. “My, my, you’re circumcised. That makes you much more sensitive.”
“I’m Jewish.”
“I’ve only had a few Jewish clients over the years, usually single. Most of the married ones are good family men. They don’t do whores.”
“That’s because their wives would cut off their balls.”
Tawny smothered a smile. “Is that the reason? Figures. So married Jewish men don’t do whores, huh? That’s what I am, aren’t I, Benny? And you love fucking whores, don’t you?” She bit his nipple, and he yelped. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I bite too hard, or don’t you like dirty talk?”
“No, not too hard.” Benny’s breathing moved from panting to the precipice of hyperventilating. “And I love fucking whores who talk dirty. It gets me hot.”
If he got any hotter, he’d burn off Tawny’s fingerprints. She pinched Benny’s nipples with one hand and tickled down his leg with the other, teasing near his member but never touching it.
“Your wife’s a whore, too, isn’t she?”
“Not any more. She only does me.”
“Really. How lucky you are to be such a cheat and have a faithful wife.” Tawny believed the part about the faithful wife like she believed Chicken Little’s warning that the sky was falling.
“Eileen understands me.”
“Yes, she would have to.” Tawny sat up, and zeroed in on Benny’s dick. “Oh, I see the blister now. It must hurt terribly.”
“It does. Maybe you could kiss it.”
“I’m afraid that’s all I can do. If you entered me, that bubble would burst open, and the pain would be excruciating.”
“Jeez, I never thought of that. Do you give rain checks?”
Tawny almost laughed. Who but Benny would think of a rain check? “If you’re not satisfied when I finish with you, we’ll discuss it. For now, I’ll be gentle, work around it with my tongue. I guarantee the pleasure will erase all pain.”
Benny gasped. “The thought of your tongue on my cock is sending shivers all through my body.”
As she was leaning down, the door to the apartment burst open. Tawny got up and turned, unsure what to expect. Eileen Cooper, Colin, and the big black man with the shaved head moved into the bedroom.
Benny took one look at Eileen, jumped up, turned to hide himself, and banged his blistered pecker on the bedside table. His scream could be heard in Greenwich Village.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Black Comedy
With her thong and sling-backs the only items between her and total nudity, Tawny squared her shoulders, threw back her head, and returned Eileen’s penetrating glare―a perfect translation of the old adage, if looks could kill. The men, though never having shown interest in her before, stared in either appreciation or shock. Or maybe it was disgust. She couldn’t determine which.
Benny was dancing around the room, almost in tears, coddling his wounded penis. Sweat poured off his naked body.
“Oh, my God. My blister ruptured. Listen to my voice. It’s higher. I’ve been emasculated.” He flopped on the bed. “Help me, Eileen. Get some salve or something to ease my pain.”
“Fuck you, Benny,” Eileen said. “You couldn’t wait to get in her pants. Why her, of all women? I hope that overworked prick shrivels and falls off, you son of a bitch.”
“Eileen, baby, please.” When she didn’t answer, Benny screamed, “Colin, you do this sort of thing. Get something. I’m losing consciousness.”
Tawny heard Colin mumble something under his breath about a drama queen.
“‘Do this sort of thing?’ I don’t do that sort of thing with anyone other than Reggie. Least of all to you, Benny. Your knob has seen too much action. There’s a limit to working for you.”
“Eileen, please. It feels like someone jabbed me with a hot poker.”
Eileen sneered at him. “Would that I had one. Why don’t you get your whore du jour to finish what she was about to do. That ought to soothe your pitiful-looking appendage.”
Benny turned his pleading to Tawny. “Tawny, please. There’s Vaseline in the bathroom cabinet. I can’t walk or I’d get it myself.”
Benny was pathetic. Tawny almost felt sorry for him. Almost, but not quite. “Of course, Benny, but I can’t believe the mother of your children would let you writhe in pain over a little extra-curricular activity.”
“A little—Why you…you—” Eileen sputtered.
Tawny felt no embarrassment as she walked naked past Eileen to retrieve Benny’s lubricant in the bathroom. In a sideways glance, she noticed the woman’s poisonous scowl and Colin’s restraining her from a likely physical attack. When Tawny returned, she scooped a blob of jelly onto her pinky finger and rubbed it over Bennie’s inflamed blister.
Benny moaned and offered Tawny a grateful smile. “Thank you. I’ll remember this.”
It was past t
ime for Tawny to get the hell out of there. She picked up her bra, intending to drop it in her satchel, and stepped into her dress with as much dignity as she could muster. But instead of heading to the closet to gather her tote, she turned toward the door. Eileen blocked her way.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Eileen said.
“I don’t work with an audience. I’m leaving.”
“I’m afraid we can’t let you leave.”
Tawny squared her shoulders and stretched to her full height to look down on Eileen. “I’d like to see you stop me.”
“Reggie?” Eileen said, summoning the massive hulk to stand sentry at the door like a giant redwood.
Tawny wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but she didn’t like it. “So that’s your name. Well, Reggie, would you move aside, please?”
“Sorry, ma’am. I’m afraid not. You see, you saw me at Mr. Martell’s.”
“And you saw me. What’s the big deal?”
“Mr. Martell had a little accident. After you left, he fell and crushed his rib cage. It was a very bad fall. Broke every bone in his chest. That was for poor Cindi. Then he shot himself. I imagine someone found him by now. He left a note and everything. You’d probably have heard it on the news when you got home.”
Tawny’s stomach did a major cartwheel, and her brain made a crucial calculation. The reason they wouldn’t let her leave was because she could identify Rick Martell’s murderer, a big problem from Reggie’s point of view. Her supposition was confirmed when Colin spoke up.
“So you see now, Ms. Dell, why we can’t let you go.”
“Colin, I thought you didn’t tell anyone about Martell,” Benny said. “How come Eileen knows?”
“Sorry, Benny, but she pays me more than you do.”
“Huh?” Confused, Benny asked, “What the fuck does that mean? Eileen? I don’t understand.”
Eileen walked over to the side of the bed and flicked the flaming red head of Benny’s penis. Tawny hoped Benny’s howl would summon the police, but New Yorkers were famous for ignoring screams and anything else they didn’t want to get involved in, and she doubted Benny’s voice carried far enough anyway. She tried to slip around Reggie, but it was no use.
