John felt a twinge of pride while walking back to their meeting spot as he munched on the bag of peanuts. He would be able to bring a little bit of joy into her miserable life.
The irony that it was the last night of her life did not escape him.
Melody arrived at ten after. He hung back in the shadows of a bar across the street to make sure she’d come alone. At a quarter past, he crossed the street and approached her.
“Hello, Melody.” He smiled and offered the bag of peanuts.
“Hi.” She smiled and tentatively reached into the bag.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d come,” he said. “I’m glad you did.”
The girl blushed and stared at the ground. “I almost didn’t. But Tim called to check up on me after you left. He said he was going out tonight and wouldn’t be home until late. Or early, however you want to look at it.”
John let the pause grow before he asked, “I take it Tim is your boyfriend?”
She nodded. “He was drunk. He sounded mean. He never used to be like this.”
“You don’t even know my name. How do you know I’m not some psycho killer?”
Her head snapped up. “I don’t. But you’ve got kind eyes.” She shrugged. “Besides, if I stay with him, he’ll kill me. I know what happens to women with men like that.”
John wished Mitch was there to hear the girl. One of Mitch’s parting comments to him several years prior had been about how cold he was, especially his eyes.
“Do you have a lot of stuff at your place?”
“No. It’s just an efficiency over near the fairgrounds.”
“Can you pack quickly?”
Hope flooded her face as she nodded. “Just my clothes and a couple of things. Not much. Maybe an hour at the most.”
He motioned for her to follow him. He walked down the block, to a darker, more secluded area. Turning his back to the street, he pulled out his wallet, removed five twenties, and handed them to her. “I want you to pack, quickly. Don’t call anyone now, there’s time for that later. Leave no trace of where you’re going, no note, no nothing. Just pack and leave.” He told her the name of the motel on 50. “Get yourself a room there and check in under the name ‘Melody Charles.’ I’ll stop by at one o’clock to make sure you got there okay. In the meantime, I’ll make a few calls of my own. I think I can get you a better job than waiting tables in a bar.”
Melody’s face clouded. “What kind of job?”
His laughter surprised her. “I’ve got a buddy who runs a temp agency. He always needs secretaries, clerks, that sort of thing. I’ll explain your circumstances. I’m sure he’ll find you something.” Her face cleared, and he thought she was near tears. “You graduated high school, didn’t you?”
“I finished two years at UCF. I was going to be a physical therapist. When I moved out, my parents stopped paying my tuition.”
“Then it’s safe to say you can answer a phone, take messages, type, maybe some computer work?”
She nodded. “I can run a computer.”
“Good. I’ll see you at one, then.” He looked around at the street. “Where are you parked?” She indicated the lot under the interstate. “I’ll walk you.” They started walking, and he tapped her on the arm. “Better yet, I’ll drive you.” He removed his keys from his pocket and disarmed the loaner Porsche’s alarm.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “That’s nice!”
He smiled. “Thank you.” He opened her door for her before sliding behind the steering wheel. She dropped her purse on the floor and caressed the leather interior.
He looked at her. “Oh, by the way, my name’s John.”
* * * *
He dropped her off at her car, an old Corolla that had seen much better days. He let her pull away, then followed at a discreet distance so she wouldn’t spot him. She had told him the truth. The apartment was a seedy little walk-up on the second floor of a building that looked condemnable. He parked a block away where he watched her repeatedly travel in and out of the building, loading her little car to its brim. A half hour later, she headed west to State Road 50.
John knew he would have to work quickly. He raced across the street to the building. As he suspected, she’d left the door unlocked, her key on the table. No note.
He slipped a baggie of coke out of his pocket, wiped it clean of his fingerprints, and left it in the center of the table. Then he pocketed the key and left, locking the door behind him.
He could play this right and frame the boyfriend for Melody’s murder. Jealous and abusive boyfriend, she left him, drugs involved. Classic case. Her coworkers would testify she had bruises on her, and that she received a phone call from Tim and seemed agitated all night long.
Oh, this is too sweet.
* * * *
The Corolla was parked in front of room 15. He drove around the back of the building, out of sight of the office. No one saw him walk up to her door, the bag of peanuts in hand. He listened for a moment, then knocked.
She answered quickly, smiling. “Hi!”
“I see you got here okay.”
“Yes, thank you.”
He made no move to enter the room, choosing to play his role to the hilt. “My friend’ll call you in the morning with the details of where you’re supposed to go Monday.” He pulled out his wallet and handed her ten fifties. “Go out tomorrow and buy yourself some work clothes. He said he might be able to place you as a teller with United Florida National Bank.”
Melody held the money, unbelievingly, staring at it. Then her gaze returned to him. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Because I don’t like seeing men beat up on women, that’s why. That boyfriend of yours doesn’t deserve you. And I can afford it.”
Well, that is the truth.
Her eyes looked moist. She stepped back from the doorway. “Please come in, John. I really don’t know how to thank you.”
I do.
He stepped in, making no move to sit. She closed the door behind him.
“You don’t need to thank me. Just keep me informed of your progress. I’d like to see you eventually get back together with your parents.”
She nodded dumbly, obviously not believing her luck. “I’ll do that.”
“And do not go back to your boyfriend. Don’t call him, don’t write him, tell all your friends and family not to tell him where you are. When you call your job tomorrow and quit, tell them not to tell him anything, and make sure you have someone go with you when you pick up your last paycheck.”
He knew he was laying it on thick, but he watched what little defenses she had crumble beneath his well-intentioned friendliness.
The young girl collapsed on the bed and cried. He hung back for a moment, then sat down next to her and comforted her, being careful not to give her the impression of intimacy. When she regained her composure, she sat up and sniffled.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s been so long since anyone’s ever done anything like this for me.”
“That’s okay. I understand. Why don’t you go wash your face. You’ll feel better.”
She did. Without the concealing makeup, the bruise looked dark and ugly against her fair skin, spreading all the way up to her hair line. She had done a better job of masking it than he first realized.
When Melody sat down next to him, John knew it was time to play his final card. “Well, I ought to leave and let you get some sleep.” He made as if to stand and felt her hand against his.
“No, please don’t.” She tentatively smiled. “Could you stay?”
“I don’t think your boyfriend will be able to find you. You’ll be fine.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” Words eluded her. He knew what she wanted, and he would make her tell him.
Pulse racing, the thrill of the hunt surged in his veins. There was no sweeter victory than when his prey literally gave itself to him.
“I didn’t do all this to get you to sleep with me,” he said.
Her
head quickly bobbed up and down. “Oh, I know that! It’s just that, well…” She stopped again, unsure of herself. “I guess you’re probably married or something.”
“No. I’m not married.”
Her fingers felt cool against his cheek when she reached out and caressed him. He captured her fingers in his hand and kissed them. That was all it took. She leaned over and kissed him, on the lips.
John let her initiate it, felt her lips open and her tongue seek his. He responded. She pushed herself into his arms, her kiss firmer as her confidence soared. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of her fingers working on the buttons of his shirt while they kissed. Soon, his shirt lay on the floor.
Melody sat back and peeled off her T-shirt, exposing fair skin marked by more bruises, especially along her average, but firm breasts. She unhooked her bra and dropped it to the floor.
“You’re beautiful.” He didn’t have to lie.
She blushed and reached across him to turn off the bedside lamp, obviously self-conscious of the marks. “Thank you.”
They stretched out on the bed, soon naked together. What she lacked in skill she made up for in enthusiasm. He pushed her down and gently spread her legs, enjoying the sounds of her moans when she climaxed.
He did not move. Instead, he used his hand to caress her, once again stoking her passions. Refusing her attempts to pull him on top of her, he made her come again. This done, he lay down beside her and smiled.
“That was wonderful,” she sighed, curling into his arms.
“Thank you.” He reached across her and grabbed the bag of peanuts off the bedside table, munching on a few.
“What about you?” she purred.
He arched his eyebrow at her. “What about me?”
“You haven’t…you know, yet.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t prepare for anything like this.”
“You mean a rubber?”
He nodded. “Yes, no offense.” The truth was, he had two in his wallet. If she didn’t have them, he would coerce her to go to the store.
She giggled. “I’ve got a couple in my purse. I make—made Tim wear them.”
“Ah, smart girl.”
Melody practically bounced out of the bed and over to her purse. She pulled out an unopened box and produced three neon-colored condoms. He suspected she stopped by a store before getting to the motel.
She pushed him down on the bed and started to open one of the condoms when he touched her shoulder.
“Melody.”
The girl looked into his eyes and sensed what he wanted. She went down on him, listening to his direction, eventually settling into a sensuous rhythm with her lips on his stiff member. He relaxed and enjoyed her, amused by her willingness to please him. Jenna was an excellent lover, but there was something about the innocence of this girl, the eagerness to please that bordered on desperation for approval, that inflamed his passions.
The scent of prey.
When he could hold it no longer, he motioned for her to stop. She sat up, disappointed, until he smiled and said, “You keep that up, we won’t need the rubbers.”
She put the condom on him and straddled him, impaling herself on his rigid shaft. They both moaned as she buried his entire length inside her and started a slow, easy rhythm.
It was obvious she was not used to tender, reciprocal sex. He gently stroked her breasts and nipples, being careful not to hurt her. When he felt his own climax approaching again, he rolled her over and held himself still inside her to ward off the impending orgasm. He kissed her while he waited, enjoying the feel of her fingers on his back, kissing her on the neck, exploring her face with his lips.
When he could go on again without exploding, he started long, deep, slow strokes that brought moans from her. With one hand, he reached down between their bodies and found her clit, rubbing it in time with his strokes. Eyes closed, she thrashed her head from side to side, moaning as her own climax started. He felt her pelvic muscles contracting around him, and she arched her hips up against his, smothering her screams of pleasure into the pillow.
He took that as his cue to increase his thrusts, pounding into her. Without her seeing, he brought one hand up to her neck, positioning his thumb over her windpipe. She made no move to stop him. Raging waves of pleasure washed over him. When his climax started, he reached up with his other hand.
His climax exploded, and he squeezed, her eyes flying open only once he had applied enough pressure to choke off her air. She thrashed under him, flailed against him, not understanding what was happening. This served to increase his climax, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he tightened his grip on her throat.
The orgasm was larger than any he’d ever experienced. He feared he’d blacked out when he opened his eyes once the last waves subsided. His hands were still tightly wrapped around her neck, but she was dead, her head lolling on the pillow.
John kissed her on the cheek and withdrew from her. Shaky knees threatened not to hold him when he got to his feet but he made it. In the bathroom, he removed the condom and dropped it in the toilet, flushing several times to make sure it cleared the trap. He washed his face and hands and used the towel to wipe the sink and toilet handles.
Dressing quickly, he retrieved the fifties, but left the remainder of the twenties he’d given her earlier. He used a tissue to wrap her room key and slipped it into his pocket. Retrieving the bag of peanuts and using another tissue, he opened the door and hung out the “Do Not Disturb” sign. The only light in the room came from the bathroom. Shining across her still form, she looked peaceful, at rest. He took one last look at her before blowing her a kiss and walking out the door, locking it behind him.
He drove past the apartment building. The kitchen window was still dark. Parking the Porsche in the same place, he quickly went upstairs and listened at the door. No sound. Using Melody’s key, he silently entered and found the apartment exactly as he’d left it.
The motel key made a hard bulge in the wad of tissue. He dropped the hotel key onto the table next to the baggie of cocaine. He wiped her apartment key clean, also put it on the table, and repocketed the tissue. Then he withdrew the fifties from his wallet and slid them under the baggie of coke. As many people had handled them, he wasn’t worried about his prints. Careful to not leave any other fingerprints, he let himself out and drove away.
He popped Meat Loaf into the CD player and sang along all the way back to the condo.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The sound of Ed brushing his teeth in the bathroom woke Mitch the next morning. Her muscles still ached, and she was glad Ed didn’t witness her first failed attempt to get out of the bed. Sucking in her breath, she barely made it on the second try and slowly started to dress.
Ed walked in. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
“We’ve got a charter going out, remember?”
“I’m canceling it.”
“Ed—”
“No.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not backing down. You are not, N-O-T, not going.”
“Look, Ed—”
“No, you look. There’s no reason for you to go and every reason for you to stay here and rest.”
“I’m not staying here. I’ll go crazy if I don’t have anything to do all day long.”
He shook his head. Mitch knew no amount of reasoning would change his mind. “You’re not going on that charter.” He kissed her on the forehead and started dressing.
“Okay, then I’ll go into the shop. I’ve got a lot of stuff I can do.”
He turned. “Mitch, why the hell can’t you just take it easy for a day? It won’t kill you!”
His tone stunned her into silence. She cursed the tears that appeared, unbidden, in her eyes.
* * * *
Her stunned look and the tears welling up in her eyes made him instantly regret his words. He wrapped his arms around her and softened his tone.
“I’m sorry, hon.” He stroked her hair. “That was a bad choi
ce of words.”
She shook her head and wiped her eyes, looking up at him. “No, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.” She pulled away and blew her nose. “I don’t know where that came from.”
He sat her down on the bed. “Look, you’ve been through a rough time. You can’t just bury it and expect it to go away. Sam will figure out whoever did it, and they’ll go to trial. You’ve still got a lot ahead of you, and I’ll be there beside you every step of the way. But you have to let go of it. Don’t keep putting on a tough face and pretending it doesn’t bother you. You’ll be back at work soon enough. Why don’t you just relax and enjoy the day off. Go back to bed for a little while. Maybe we’ll move your computer over here this afternoon.”
Mitch smiled. “Sounds like you’re trying to move me in.”
He smiled back. “I can think of worse things.”
The phone rang. Ed ignored it until Sam’s voice spoke up on the answering machine. Ed caught him in mid-sentence.
“Sam, what’s up?”
“Hi, Ed. Wanted to warn you that John and his girlfriend are coming over today to give us statements. Just in the unlikely event he should want to drop by and say hi to Mitch.”
“Working on a Sunday? Seems like my tax dollars are finally being put to good use.”
“Fuck you, Ed. You live in Hernando County anyway.” He laughed before his tone turned serious again. “I want to get him in here. I would have preferred yesterday, but hopefully, since it is the weekend, if we approach this the right way, he won’t feel defensive, won’t lawyer up on us. He should be here in a couple of hours.”
Ed glanced at Mitch. She stood in the bedroom doorway and intently watched. “Okay, Sam. Thanks for the info. Talk to you later.”
When he hung up, Mitch asked, “What did he want?”
“Oh, not much. They’re going to question John and his girlfriend I guess, but so far, no new leads.”
“Oh, okay. When?”
“Today.”
Dalton, Tymber - Red Tide (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 19
