Her hands were still trembling ten minutes later as she walked the streets of Georgetown. Killing Ken shook her up. Although she had witnessed a murder before, she never actually terminated anyone’s life herself.
She took a deep breath of the balmy evening air. Her mood lightened. As she walked, she thought back to the days of her Buddhist upbringing in Thailand, and of the reincarnation stories she had heard as a child. She wondered what Ken would come back as. Maybe a cockroach. Or a slug. He didn’t deserve anything better than that. She smiled. She was in control again.
After walking for about ten minutes she came upon a Dunkin’ Donuts. She decided to go in, but not just for a donut and coffee. She needed to get rid of Ken’s wallet. She couldn’t just toss it into the nearest trash can. The person who picked up the trash might notice it, pick it up and turn it in to the police when he saw who it belonged to. It had her prints on it. She needed to wipe them off and put it in a bag before disposing of it.
She walked up to the counter. After about a minute it was her turn.
“What would you like, ma’am?”
“I’ll have a glazed donut and a small coffee with milk and sugar.”
“For here or to go?”
“To go.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out Ken’s wallet. She opened it and saw that it contained about a hundred dollars. Ken would be paying. It was only fitting. He was a government employee. That money came from the taxpayers. She considered it to be a small refund, partial compensation for all the excessive taxes she had been forced to pay over the years to fund the government’s wasteful programs.
After paying, she picked up the bag carefully with her thumb and forefinger, making sure not to touch it in more than one little place, then walked outside and sat at one of the tables. After a few minutes of munching and people watching, she got up, walked inside and went into the women’s rest room. She looked under the stalls to see if anyone was there. She was alone.
She took out Ken’s wallet, removed the cash and put it into her pocket. Then she walked over to the sink, placed the wallet under the spigot and turned on the water. She took a paper towel from the dispenser, tore it in half, and held half of it in each hand. She squirted soap on the wallet and proceeded to wash it thoroughly, making sure not to touch it with her hands. When she finished, she placed it in the bag and tore off the corner of the bag that had her finger prints, holding the paper towel while doing it, making sure she would not put any new finger prints on the bag. Then she placed the bag in the trash and walked out.
She needed to go back to the hotel to change. But she was planning to do that anyway. She intended to wear a special dress when she paid a visit to the esteemed senator.
7
A Visit to the Senator
When she got back to the hotel she took the stairs rather than the elevator. She didn’t want anyone to see the blood spatters on her shoes, although it now looked more like dirt than blood. The first thing she did after getting back to her room was take off all her clothes and place them, along with the latex glove, into a plastic bag she had brought along for the occasion. She would dispose of them later. Then she stepped into the small bathroom and took a shower, her second of the day. It was more of a mental cleansing than anything else.
A few minutes later she emerged, ready to execute the next part of her plan. She put on a black bra, matching panties and some street clothes. She wouldn’t draw much attention if she wore jeans and a sweatshirt. She grabbed the short blonde wig she had purchased a few days before, tucked her long, jet black hair into it, looked into the mirror and made a few adjustments.
Then she walked over to the drawers, opened one, and took out a special dress she had reserved for her surprise meeting with the esteemed senator. It was short, silky, low-cut and bright red. She stuffed it, along with a pair of black high heels, into a backpack, which already held the push knife, a roll of duct tape, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and something that looked like a long, slender flashlight. She strapped it onto her back, put on a baseball cap, grabbed the handle of the suitcase with the million dollars in it, and rolled it to the door. She was back on the street two minutes later.
The hotel was a twenty-minute walk from the Senator’s apartment. She liked to walk, especially in big cities like New York, Hong Kong and Washington. She pulled the piece of paper the senator had given her out of her pocket and double-checked the address. When she came to the street where he lived, she turned left. A few minutes later she spotted his building.
It was a secured building, but it wasn’t all that secure. The parking garage was below ground level. Anyone who wanted to drive in had to have a special remote to open the garage door. She watched from across the street, waiting for someone to pull in to the driveway.
She didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later a dark, late model car pulled in and drove toward the garage door, which had already started to open. She took a pair of sunglasses out of her pocket and put them on, pulled down the brim of her baseball cap to partially obscure her face from the camera she knew must be there, and crossed the street briskly, trying not to be too obvious. She waited for the car to get far enough into the garage, then walked into the building before the door could close.
Once in, she looked around to get the lay of the land. On the far side of the building she saw an elevator and a stairway. She waited until the guy who had just driven in got into the elevator. When the door closed, she started walking toward it, shifting her vision left and right to see if she was alone. She was.
She kept her head tucked down as she entered the elevator. If there was a camera, it wouldn’t be able to see much more than someone in a cap wearing sun glasses and short blonde hair. The senator’s condo was 2007, on the twentieth floor. She took the elevator to the twenty-second floor, got off, and took the stairs down to twenty.
She looked around, and spotted the laundry room. Hopefully, no one would be in it. It was about eight o’clock on a week night. Someone might be doing their laundry. Some people just place it in the machines, then go back to their condos and return when the load is finished. Others sit and read a book while waiting. She didn’t know what to expect when she opened the door.
No one was there, but she could hear a few of the machines spinning their loads. She would have to be quick, before whoever owned the laundry returned. She took off the backpack, opened it and quickly took out the red dress and shoes. She stripped off her wig and clothes as fast as she could, crammed them into the backpack, and put on the red dress and shoes. It was really short, almost a foot above her knees.
The whole process took less than a minute. She took out her mirror, freshened her makeup, grabbed the handle of the million dollar suitcase and walked out of the room.
The senator’s condo was down the hall and to the left. As she arrived at the door she took a deep breath, adjusted her tits and her long black hair. She didn’t want to leave any finger prints or DNA on the door bell, so she took a tissue from her backpack, wrapped it around the knuckle of her right index finger and gently pushed the button. Then she slid the tissue into one of the pockets of her backpack.
She heard someone walking toward the door. Then the walking sound stopped. She looked at the keyhole. The beam of light that had shone through it became dark. Whoever was on the other side of the door was looking at her.
Was it the senator? Was he alone? She hadn’t called first to see if he was home alone. Deliberately. She wanted to surprise him, and she didn’t want him to tell anyone he was going to meet with her.
She could hear the lock rattling. The door opened slowly. It was Senator Garrett.
When he saw her he smiled. “Annie? This is a pleasant surprise. What are you doing here?”
He glanced at her boobs, which were tastefully displayed. His eyes moved slowly down to her legs, then back up to her eyes, which were stunning. Her appearance had drawn similar reactions from hundreds of men in the past, both clients and stranger
s. Although she enjoyed the attention she could generate, she never got totally comfortable with it. They treated her like a slab of meat, which they could purchase by the hour or the night. Jack was the only man who ever treated her like a human being.
She smiled back, then gave him a little pout. “I know I could just give you the money, but I want to fuck you, too. I’m attracted to handsome, powerful men.”
His eyes opened wide upon hearing her words.
He opened the door all the way. “Come in. I’m glad you stopped by.”
She walked in the door, dragging her million dollar suitcase behind her.
He hesitated. “Are you wearing a wire? Is this a sting operation?”
Half teasingly, she said, “Senator. What are you suggesting? You sound just a little paranoid.” She reached around her back and unzipped the zipper. The dress slid off her sleek body and onto the floor, revealing her black bra and panties. “Would you like to check my bra for microphones?” She unfastened it and tossed it on the couch.
He glanced at her breasts, focusing on her small, erect brown nipples. His eyes moved downward. Nice, flat tummy. Small but curvy hips. He pointed toward the backpack. “What’s in there?”
She smiled, and gazed directly into his eyes. “A change of clothes. In case you invite me to stay for the night.”
He took the bait. He didn’t feel the need to search her. There was practically nothing left to search, except her internal cavities, and he planned to probe those in a few minutes.
She had gained his trust. As she looked at him, still staring at her, it reminded her of something Robin Williams once said. “God gave man two heads, but only enough blood to flow to one of them at a time.”
It was so easy to seduce a man. She had done it hundreds of times. The senator was no different from all the others. Maybe even easier. He offered no resistance.
The senator stood before her, mouth agape. For once he didn’t know what to say. He stammered. “Ah, would you like a drink?”
“No thanks. I’m not thirsty. Maybe later. Right now I just want you inside me.”
“Well, ah, OK.”
She walked up to him, placed her hands behind his head and gave him a soft, tender kiss, caressing the back of his neck as she did it. He responded immediately. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and she reciprocated.
After a few seconds she pulled back.
“We can’t stand here all night. Could you show me the way to the bedroom?”
“Sure, it’s this way.” He took her by the hand, and as he started gently leading her in the direction of the bedroom she stooped over to pick up her backpack. He noticed, and pulled back, looking a little apprehensive.
“Don’t worry. It’s just my girly stuff.”
That seemed to placate him. When they entered the bedroom she set the backpack down next to the bed. She pointed to the door at the other side of the room. “Is that the bathroom?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t go away. I’ll be right back.” She reached into the backpack and took out her purse. “I’ll just be a minute.”
She walked into the bathroom and closed the door, making sure not to touch anything. He used the opportunity to do a quick search of her backpack. He opened it and looked inside. Jeans, a sweatshirt, sneakers. He looked a little deeper and found her blonde wig and sunglasses. Odd, he thought. What would she be doing with a blonde wig? She had beautiful long jet black hair. She wouldn’t look good as a blonde. He brushed by something that looked like a long, slender flashlight, then came upon the large bottle of peroxide. Odd again. Why would she carry around a large bottle of peroxide? Or any peroxide, for that matter.
He wasn’t thinking clearly because of the present situation. He knew that women sometimes used peroxide, but he didn’t know exactly what for. He put the matter out of mind and looked over at the bed, wondering what kind of delights awaited him when she emerged from the bathroom. She had been a high-class escort. That much he knew. She must have acquired a lot of experience. He was about to benefit from that experience.
He heard the toilet flush. He had better get away from that backpack, or she might see him by it and suspect he was searching through her stuff.
She emerged from the bathroom wearing a short, lacy black negligee. She looked at him looking at her. “Now it’s your turn.” She walked up to him, gazed into his eyes and caressed the back of his neck.
“I don’t want to sound critical or anything, but your breath tastes a little like cigars. Could you brush your teeth or gargle or something? I want this evening to be perfect.”
He looked a little embarrassed by the criticism. “Sure. I want this evening to be perfect, too.”
After he walked into the bathroom and closed the door, she went into action. She rushed over to the backpack and took out the push knife and the stainless steel tubular item that looked like a long, slender flashlight, then walked over to the bed and pulled back the covers. It was a double bed. She didn’t know which side he preferred, so she placed the knife and the slender tube under the pillow on the right side, but toward the middle of the bed.
By the time he peed and brushed his teeth she was already under the covers, waiting for him. Her head was resting on the pillow with the knife and tube.
As he walked out of the bathroom, he noticed she was already in bed. Her long black hair was covering most of the pillow.
“You’re wearing too many clothes, Senator. Take them off.”
He obliged immediately, throwing them on the floor, one by one. As she looked at his puffy, naked body she tried to hide her feelings of disgust. First she had to kiss this pig. Now she had to endure his naked body against hers. She had been with men like him before, but they weren’t usually as disgusting. Jack, the one man she wanted to be with, had been unavailable for years. He was the only man who had ever cared about her for more than her body.
When he had finished undressing he lifted up the covers and crawled in next to her. He held the bottom of her negligee between his thumb and index finger. “Now you’re the one who’s wearing too many clothes.”
“Ha, ha. I’ll take them off in a minute. Or maybe I’ll let you take them off.”
He crawled on top of her and started kissing her. She kissed him back, opening her legs to make him feel welcome. She wrapped them around him, and twisted until she was on top of him. As she bent forward to kiss him, she reached under the pillow and grabbed the stainless steel tube. The tube actually could function as a flashlight. It was disguised to look like one. But its main function was to send 1.5 million volts into whoever was unfortunate enough to touch its hot end.
She jumped off of the senator, quickly pulled off the light part of the flashlight, pushed the red button on the other end of it, and slammed it into his ribs. The senator could feel shock waves shooting through his entire body. His muscles started to spasm uncontrollably. She held it to his ribs for a few seconds to make sure he was totally immobilized before she removed it.
The senator continued to shake as she walked briskly to her backpack and took out the duct tape and latex gloves that waited for her in a side pocket. She didn’t know how long he would stay immobilized, so she had to work fast.
She slapped on the gloves, took the tape and started wrapping it around his right wrist. Then his hand. She walked over to the bed post, twisting the roll of tape as she went. She saw someone do that in a movie once. She kept turning the roll until the tape between his hand and the bed post started to look like a rope. Doing that strengthened it, making it almost impossible to snap in the event the senator tried to break loose, which he surely would, once she started doing to him what she had planned.
Fastening him to the bed post took too much time. The senator was starting to recover from the shock, so she picked up the tube and zapped him again in the same place, coldly holding it for a count of five. Then she walked to the other side of the bed, wrapped up his left wrist and hand, and fastened him securely to the other bed post
. She did the same thing to his ankles and feet, twisting the roll of tape as she went until it looked like rope instead of tape. By the time he had recovered he was fully incapacitated. His arms and legs were fully extended. He was completely naked.
“What are you going to do to me? Let’s talk. We can work something out.”
Annie glanced at him and could see the look of panic on his face. “Shut up. You can speak when I give you permission to speak.”
He started to whimper. The power he could wield as a senator had evaporated in a matter of minutes. Now he was just a man, and not much of one at that.
She stepped out of the bedroom and into the living room. When she returned a few seconds later, the senator could hear the television playing before she closed the bedroom door. She walked over to the television on the far side of the bedroom and turned it on.
“It’s getting late. We don’t want to disturb the neighbors with your screaming.”
The senator started to panic. It was in his eyes as well as his voice. “Why are you doing this? Don’t you realize how much I can help you? I have resources. Almost unlimited resources.”
She gazed upon him in disgust. “Where are they now, Senator? You can’t even help yourself. How do you expect me to believe that you can help me?”
She walked over to him and bent forward. Her face came within inches of his. Her long, black hair brushed against his cheek. She was almost within kissing range. She was so close he could smell her perfume and makeup. She slipped her right hand under the pillow and retrieved the knife, gripping it so the blade protruded from between her middle and ring fingers.
When she pushed herself away from him he could see it in her hand.
“What are you going to do with that? Don’t you know you can’t get away with it?”
“I already have, Senator. You’ve threatened to destroy my life. Now I’m going to destroy yours.”
Annie and the Senator: A Story of Vigilante Justice (Annie Chan Thrillers Book 1) Page 3
