by K. J. Cazel
"I'd like a morning flight from ORD to LVS."
"Certainly sir, I have a 8:30 a.m. flight arriving LVS 1:27 p.m. Would that meet your needs?"
"Yes, I'll arrange transportation and hotel on my arrival."
As directed by the operator, Rodney punched in a credit card for payment and waited for the confirmation to arrive on his iPhone. It was past midnight by the time Rodney had e-mailed the office that he wouldn't be in for several days. He packed a bag and grabbed a few hours of sleep before he headed for the airport.
***
As Rodney departed the plane in Vegas, he quickly took off his jacket as the heat of the desert engulfed his body. Being a frequent visitor, he knew exactly where to go to satisfy his needs.
Within an hour he was able to check into the executive suite at the Palace Hotel. Before the night’s activity, he wanted to get into more comfortable clothes and a meal.
By seven, Rodney was bored. Gambling wasn't why he came to Vegas. In the casino, his eyes traveled around the room. He knew fellow gamblers watched him while he played Roulette with abandonment. The house loved him and would comp him anything. His eyes fixed on a young woman with strawberry red hair sitting on a barstool. She smiled at him. Rodney collected his chips and headed toward the woman. He could see from her attire that she was more than willing, for a fee, to participate in some evening fun.
"Are you available for anything?"
"Anything costs."
"No problem." Before Rodney could further discuss payment, a tall, dark haired man approached them.
"Ginny, I told yaw; I would do the negotiations.”
Ginny lowered her eyes. She didn't want any trouble with Sergio. He controlled her. He was her source of the delicious white powder.
The two men agreed upon a fee. $1000.00 up front and another $1000.00 in the morning. Ginny was now Rodney's for the night. He could do what ever he wished. She wasn't going to complain. She was dependent on her pimp and his drugs.
The pimp, Rodney and Ginny took the elevator to the top floor. Just before Rodney took Ginny in the room, the pimp handed Ginny a little white packet. "Be a good girl. There will be a lot more for you in the morning."
Rodney closed and locked the door once Ginny had entered. Rodney sat down on the lounge.
"Okay, sweetie. I like to see you do a little strip for me before we get started."
Ginny smiled sweetly at him. As she slowly started to disrobe, Rodney started rubbing his penis through his pants. As his member grew, he had to release it from his pants. He continued moving his hand up and down on his member.
"Come over sweetie. Time to have something to eat."
She did as she was told. The drugs masked her revulsion she would have felt. Rodney grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer. He pushed her head down toward his penis. "Come on sweetie. Do your magic. You're getting paid for anything."
Ginny closed her eyes and she performed the act that the client deeply desired. Once Rodney released himself, Ginny collapsed on the floor spewing the semen at his feet. There were tears in her eyes.
After a short while Rodney got up pushing Ginny to the side. He took off his clothes and neatly piled them on the chair. When he finished, he lifted Ginny up and laid her on the bed. She didn't protest. She was his to do with, as he liked. He paid for her. She knew she had to cooperate with the client. If she didn't, Sergio would withhold her drugs. She lost so much...her family. They'd never want her back. This was her life.
"Hey snap to. We're still gonna have some more fun."
Rodney rolled over on the bed and pulled Ginny on top of him. His erection grew again. "Hop on sweetie."
She did as she was commanded. She tossed her head back, the long red hair swirling around her shoulders. She took a deep breath, as Rodney commanded her to “Ride it baby!"
She rocked back and forth, increasing her speed. Experience had taught her that once a client came, her work for the evening was done. This client already came once, the second would surly be his limit. Just as Ginny felt the client was ready, Rodney lifted her from him. In one easy movement, Rodney was on top of her. His hands were cupping and squeezing her breasts as he inserted his member in her vagina. She could feel his fingers squeezing the nipples as they hardened in automatic response. As he pumped his penis in and out, his mouth came down on her right nipple. She felt his teeth as he sucked. She knew, even thought she had done this for the past six months her body automatically responded to these assaults. She hated her body.
Rodney released himself again. He collapsed on top of Ginny pinning her to the bed. She lay there quietly, hoping that he would roll over and sleep. Her hopes were dashed when several minutes later, Rodney reached over that turned Ginny to her stomach. He slapped her hips.
"Lift 'em," he commanded.
She lifted her hip and Rodney entered her doggie style. Again, he pumped his member in and out. Still, he didn't release himself. He had control. He withdrew himself and then spread Ginny’s butt cheeks again. This time he rammed his engorged penis into her anus with brute force.
"Please stop." Ginny pleaded.
"Hey no complaints. Remember—anything!" He continued pumping his penis in and out. With each thrust, more tears fell from Ginny's eyes.
At last, Rodney ejaculated and fell on her body. She couldn't move. His weight held her down. She just wanted to get the hell out of there. In a few minutes, she heard the clients' deep breathing. He was asleep. Slowly, Ginny worked her body free. She went to her clothes and took out the small package Sergio had given her. She moved his clothes aside and sat on the chair. Her hands shook as she opened the small package, and the white powder fell on the table. She bent down, holding the side of her nostril as she sniffed in the powder. She sat back relishing the feeling of euphoria that engulfed her.
Rodney continued sleeping. Ginny gather her clothes and entered the bathroom. She looked in the mirror. Looking back as her was a whore. Her makeup was smeared; tearstains were on her cheeks. She could see fingerprint bruises starting on her breast. She stepped in the shower, hoping to wash away her shame. When she finished the shower, she dressed and left the room. Sergio was sitting on a chair at the end of the corridor.
"All done?"
"Where my stuff?"
"Not until I hear from the client. If you didn't please him, you get nothing! Get going. I'll see you later."
The sun came through the room's window waking Rodney up. He looked around and saw he was alone. He lay there and smiled as he thought of last night. He closed his eyes and congratulated himself on his behavior. He was a good guy. He wasn't a killer. He didn't kill her. Those others were just bitches.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Tom and Steve pulled up in front of Carole's bungalow. It was almost noon; several hours past the time Tom had expected to be there. As they rang the buzzer, Steve stood to the right behind Tom.
"It's about time." Carole backed up and opened the door wider. The cold wind rushed in.
"Been busy. Carole, this is Steve Harrington, my partner. Steve, Carole Underwood.”
"Quickly, come in...it's cold out there."
Both men entered the alcove behind Carole stomping their feet on the floor mat to shake off the sidewalk slush.
"Just hang your coats on the rack. Tom, you'll find Sam in the living room. She's very fragile.
"Steve how about helping me in the kitchen so Tom can have some private time with Sam. Let's get some lunch together. My stomach is already growling."
"Woman after my heart. Donuts go only so far."
Tom stopped at the living room entryway. He saw Sam curled up in the oversized lounge chair, looking like a little-lost child. The scene tugged at his heart. He felt an overwhelming need to comfort her in his arms.
"Sam." Tom softly whispered.
Sam looked up and tried to give a haft-hearted smile. "Hi." Sam replied softly.
Tom pulled up a side chair next to Sam.
"Sam, Carole said you had a roug
h night."
"I SKYPED with Dr. Kalish this morning."
"That's good. Did he help you?"
"He always does. I'm afraid to tell you. I feel so dirty."
"Sam, you didn't do anything wrong."
***
In the kitchen, Carole and Steve worked in an unforeseen unison. At first, the conversation between the two ranged from getting to know each other to the preparations of lunch. It wasn't long before it changed.
"So, how do you think things are going in there?"
"Well, Tom was on line with Morris Hospital this morning. It took some time to get to the right person, but he ascertained that Sam had long red hair before they shaved her head. The victimology is the same for all three women...age between 30-40, red-hair, and no known relatives to report them missing. What is Sam going to tell Tom?"
"Let's say it isn't pleasant."
Steve knitted his brow as a looked at Carole.
"It seems she remembers that the abuse happened over several days. The culmination was the rape."
"There was no sign of rape according to the medical reports."
"It wasn't a standard rape if you can call rape standard."
Again, Steve had a questioning look at Carole.
"He used the back door."
"Oh God, what a sicko!" Steve's eyes turned to the living room.
"I think they had enough time. Let's take this spread in."
Carole set the sandwich tray down on the dining room table while Steve carried in the coffee pot.
"Hey, you two come in and get the feed bag on." Carole called.
Tom had his arm around Sam's waist as he supported her walk to the table.
The lunchtime conversation stared out discussing the recent snowfall and the clearing of the Chicago streets; a time honored tradition among Chicago residents. As the meal progressed, Carole felt that sufficient conversation had taken place to address the elephant in the room.
"So Tom, what do you think about the connection between Sam's name and the book's heroine?"
Carole wondered if it was too soon to bring up the topic, but it was too late. Carole looked at Sam who kept staring down at her plate.
"It tells a lot really. It narrows our scope of investigation to Robinson—Williams Publishing."
"How's that?"
"Well, I can't say exactly right now. From what Sam says, the book was just released in January. That means for Sam to have been familiar of the heroine she probably had seen the book before it was released."
"Does that mean Sam is in danger working there?"
"Let's say that it not a healthy environment for her."
Carole turned to Sam who was now pushing her plate to the side, indicating that she was through with eating.
"Sam, you're not going back!"
Sam looked up from the table and turned to Carole. "I'm not a hero, but wouldn't it be easier if I were there? Maybe I can find something out. What about that Rizzo guy?"
Tom gave a little snicker. "I don't think he's the problem."
Sam gave him a questioning look. "Why?"
"It seems Mr. Rizzo is still in the closet."
"Really?" Sam face showed a stunned look.
"I guess some would prefer to keep their private life private."
"But, he had all the women falling all over him."
"An act. And, I might add a very good one."
As they finished up, Steve looked at his watch, signaling to Tom that they better be on their way. They scheduled a meeting with the medical examiner at 2:30.
Inside the car, Steve asked, "So Tom, what's up between you and Sam?"
"Nothing at present. You know I don't get personal with victims. With Sam it’s just different."
"What do you know about Carole?"
"Interested?"
Steve decided not to answer the question and switched to the police band to listen to the various incoming calls for their remaining ride to the Corner's Office.
Although they had an appointment with the corner, the medical examiner they needed to talk to was in the middle of an autopsy. An assistant greeted them and handed Tom the report on the lakefront victim. Tom scanned through the report and handed it to Steve.
"Looks like our perp followed the same pattern as the Kane County victim."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Against Carole's wishes Sam reported to work Wednesday morning. As she entered the elevator the wisp of men’s cologne again assaulted her nostrils. Her eyes searched her fellow passengers for the man wearing the scent. Unfortunately, the car contained only women. The scent lingered from a previous rider.
Once she arrived at her workstation Alice greeted her.
"So?"
"What?"
"Did you get a chance to read the book I gave you?"
"I started, but I had some personal things I had to get done. I'll try to get back to it later this week."
"Yea, but did you see your name in the book?"
"Yes, but if you look on the Internet, it isn't an uncommon. Evidently, the author must have thought it was a good name."
"Whatever."
Feeling let down by Sam's response, Alice turned to her computer and started entering data.
By noon, Alice seemed to put her disappointment aside and reminded Sam that it was time for a lunch break. In the lunchroom, Sam and Alice took a table where they could see who came in out of the lunchroom. Mike Rizzo entered the room and headed straight for a table with a group of junior editors.
"I see he's at it again," Alice remarked.
"Oh, I don't know; he seems harmless."
"Sam, I don't believe you. He's such a leech."
One of Alice's friends stopped by and interrupted them.
"The police are here again."
***
In his tenth floor office, Rodney sat in his chair looking at the lakefront. As he peered down, he smiled as he thought of the naked victim who was, he was sure, baffling the detectives.
Mrs. Green knocked and waited outside for Rodney to acknowledge her presence. Once inside Mrs. Green announced that Paul Hendrix was waiting to see him.
"Thank you Mrs. Green, show him in."
"Rodney glad you back. Did you enjoy your trip?"
"It was a short getaway, but I was really lucky. I got out before the storm."
"The city never sleeps even in snow storm. Did you hear about the naked dead woman found on the lakefront?"
"No. And that concerns us because?"
"I'm not sure how it 's connected to our missing employee. But, the police are here again. I think it's best that we just cooperate and get them out of the building as quickly as possible. We don't want any bad publicity before the spring releases."
"I agree. By the way, how is Sarah's estate coming along?"
"We still have several tax implications to resolve."
"Well, I hope you get them resolved soon. I have to know exactly what funds I have to work with."
"I understand. I'll get back to you when I have a more definitive answer."
Paul left the office, and Rodney turned his back and gazed out his window towards Lincoln Park.
An hour had passed when Mrs. Green repeated the ritual of knocking before entering Rodney's sanctum.
"Yes, Mrs. Green," practically shouting in response to the knock. Mrs. Green peeked her head in and in a low voice addressed her boss.
"There's a Tom Cassel, a detective from CPD, who would like to talk to you."
"Give me five and then let him in." Rodney opened his laptop, signed on. To look busy, he spread some papers around his desk.
After five minutes Mrs. Green opened the door letting Tom enter the office.
"Mr. Williams, Tom Cassel from the Chicago Police Department."
"Come in Detective Cassel. Have a seat. Is there something I can help you with?"
"I just wanted to thank you for letting us interview some of your employees."
"That's quite all right."
&nb
sp; "You really have a big operation here."
"I do. I can't take credit for it all. My father and my wife's father built the business."
"Does your wife work here?"
"She did. She was the CEO until she died last year in a car accident."
"Oh, I'm sorry to here that."
"Yes, it was tragic. Fortunately, we are a privately owned company so we didn't suffer from any financial losses."
Tom's detective sensed that this man wasn't entirely remorseful about the loss of his wife.
"Again, thank you Mr. Williams for the cooperation your company extended the CPD."
“Any time.”
Both men stood up and extended their hands to signal the end of the meeting. Rodney walked Tom to the door. At the doorway, Rodney directed Mrs. Green that he didn't wish to be interrupted.
Rodney closed the door and returned to his desk. He returned to the opened computer and went immediately to a locked folder. Once he entered his password, a list of JPEG's came up. He smiled as he viewed his recent additions.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Tom and Steve had developed a white board on the wall of the precinct. There were three victims listed; each had their own column. Other detectives looked as Tom entered the stats. When the facts were written on the board, obviously two victims crossed the path of the Robinson—Williams company. The two victims were red heads, age approximately 30-40, no known relatives. Raped was a question mark. Tom had the morgues provide pictures of each of the victims. Each photo was placed under the correct column. He wanted to make it personal.
"What did you think of the Williams?"
"Strange dude. He was definitely disconnected from the death of his wife."
