Pretenses (9 page)

“Martha—where is she?”

“In the kitchen.”

“Cooperate and I'll give you pleasure like you've never known. Refuse and die a slow, agonizing death. It's up to you.”

Chester nodded his head rapidly as she knew he would. In her years as an assassin, not one man ever chose an agonizing death when he could go out with unbelievable pleasure. She removed the pistol from his forehead and put it under his chin. Then she kissed him deeply, pulling the back of his head forward to meet her lips. After the kiss, she felt his privates to see what he had to offer, not that it mattered. A stiff penis was all she needed.

“Let's go get your wife, Chester.”

More obedient than man's best friend, Chester led her down the hallway to the kitchen where Martha was cooking a pot of spaghetti and meatballs. She was facing the stove, but she heard him come in.

“Who was it, Chester?” Martha asked without turning around. “You simply must taste this sauce. It's the best I've ever made.” She turned around with a large wooden spoonful of meat sauce in her hand. She dropped the spoon and gasped when she saw Coco Nimburu standing next to Chester with a gun under his chin.

“What's going on?” Martha shouted. “What do you want? Money?”

“No, not money, Martha,” Coco said calmly. “I don't want anything from you, but Chester and I just made a deal that will be mutually pleasurable for the both of us. You, on the other hand, will have to wait until we're finished. I'll deal with you then.”

Coco thought it best not to tell them that they would both be dead by the time she left. That way, she wouldn't have to hear the constant begging that doomed people did. Plus, if Chester thought by pleasuring Coco, he and Martha might live, it would be easier for him when she sent him to meet his maker.

“What do you think, Chester? Should we make her watch?” He shook his head. “Don't want the old broad to see you getting your freak on, huh? I understand. Let's go, you two.”

She tied Martha's hands and feet and put her in their bedroom closet; then she told Chester to strip. Inside the closet, Martha could hear Chester's prurient groans of ecstasy. It went on and on for about an hour. Then she heard what sounded like a twig snapping, followed by a short gag. Wondering what had happened, she tried to listen more closely. The sex was over, that much she could tell. Was Chester all right? She could hear footsteps coming toward the closet. Maybe it was Chester, she thought. Maybe he had somehow freed himself, fooling the intruder into thinking he had enjoyed sex with her. Maybe it was she who had gagged suddenly. The door opened.

“Your turn, Martha.” Coco backhanded her. Then she proceeded to beat Martha to a pulp, breaking both her arms and legs before putting a bullet in her brain. As usual, Coco took the sheets and any DNA evidence they held with her. An hour later, she was back in her room on the twentieth floor of the Hyatt Regency, watching
Star Trek Voyager
and eating the ribs she had taken from Sydney Drew's place.

T
HE
B
ELTWAY
traffic was heavy, and the Rapist was in the fast lane going 40 mph. After driving back and forth for a couple of hours, he was about to call it a night. No one was taking the bait. Instead of flashing their lights, the drivers of the other cars switched lanes and zoomed past him. He was just about to switch lanes to take his exit when a motorist came out of nowhere, flashing his lights and blowing the horn like a maniac. The Rapist smiled broadly and switched lanes. The driver zoomed past in a black Cadillac and shook his fist at him. The Rapist had to speed up so he wouldn't lose the motorist, yet stay far enough behind not to be spotted.

The Rapist followed the Cadillac to Union Station, which not only contained Amtrak's headquarters but also housed the city's most elegant mall, 130 shops and a nine-screen movie complex. The driver parked in the connected garage and practically ran to the escalators, totally unaware he was being followed. The Rapist saw the driver go into Victoria's Secret. He walked past the glass-enclosed shop. His intended victim was talking to a short blonde. Ten minutes later, the driver and the woman came out of the shop holding hands.

The Rapist followed the couple down the spiral staircase, past the bronze statue of A. Philip Randolph, to the huge food court featuring a smorgasbord of food from all over the world. The Rapist watched the couple walk hand in hand over to the Chinese food restaurant, which was next to a New York-style pizza parlor. They ordered shrimp with lobster
sauce, beef fried rice, sweet-and-sour shrimp and egg-drop soup to go. The smell of pizza filled the Rapist's nostrils, and he ordered a slice. It tasted so good that he ordered another slice and a root beer to wash it down.

The Rapist took a seat in the food court and scrutinized the couple while he finished his pizza. The man was tall and athletic. He had broad shoulders and a deep, muscular chest. The woman was wearing a low-cut lavender dress that hugged every voluptuous curve.

After about ten minutes, their food was ready, and they strolled out of Union Station with their fingers laced. The woman had her head on the man's shoulder; she felt safe. The couple stopped at Ben and Jerry's and picked up some ice cream. By the time they arrived at a house in Bethesda, it was 10:30.

The Rapist pulled into the driveway and parked right behind them. He flashed his bright lights in their eyes. The man got of out his Cadillac and slammed the door.

“HEY MAN! WHAT THE FUCK!” he shouted.

The Rapist picked up the duct tape on his front seat and got out of the car, brandishing his gun. He said, “How 'bout we go inside, and discuss this in private? Okay, tough guy.”

“Hey, what's this about, man?” He changed his tone.

“I said, let's discuss it inside. Now get the bitch and let's go.”

The Rapist followed the couple into the house, looking around to see if anybody had seen him. They went to the bedroom, and the man said, “What do you want—money, jewelry, what? We just wanna eat our food, watch a movie, and fuck. I've been waiting all day for this shit, man.”

“I'm not a thief,” the Rapist said. He tossed the tape on the bed. “Strip, honey.”

“So you wanna fuck my bitch? Is that what this is about?”

“Chad! I told you not to call me that!”

“That's all you are. And that's all you're ever gonna be.”

The Rapist frowned. This wasn't exactly what he had hoped for. Chad wasn't even in love with the woman. No way he'd fight hard for her. He had to think of something fast. If he left without raping somebody, they
wouldn't hesitate to call the police and give them a description. He decided to go through with the charade, thinking maybe when it began, Chad would try to fight.

“Strip, honey,” the Rapist repeated.

“CHAD! DO SOMETHING?”

“Yeah, Chad, do something,” the Rapist urged.

“You wanna fuck Cindy? Be my guest. It ain't worth gettin' killed over.”

“YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!” Cindy shouted. “Is that all I am to you? Is that all I am?”

“Yeah. What the fuck else? I hope you don't think I'm gonna marry you.”

Cindy slapped Chad, and Chad slapped her back. She tried to slap him again, but he grabbed her arm.

“Hey, knock that shit off,” the Rapist told them, but they kept wrestling. He didn't want to fire a shot. Someone would hear it and call the police. His instincts told him to leave while he could, but they both had seen his face. He hit Chad in the back of the head with the gun, thinking the blow would knock him out and give him time to think. But Chad turned around and grabbed the gun. While they wrestled for the weapon, Cindy ran to the hallway closet and came back with a Louisville slugger.

Chad was strong, and if the situation had been different, his strength would have given the Rapist a stiff erection. But it was life or death now. The Rapist tried to get the gun away from Chad. Suddenly, he felt a blunt object crash against his back. It hurt like hell, but he couldn't let go of the gun. THUD! Cindy hit him again.

“Let Chad go!” she shouted. The gun was slipping out of the Rapist's hand. THUD! Again, she hit him. POW—the gun went off. The bullet ripped through Chad's chin and out the top of his head.

“Chad?” Cindy uttered, unable to believe what she was seeing.

It had happened so fast. She dropped the bat and ran over to her lover's dead body. The Rapist's mind was racing a hundred miles an hour. For the first time since he had started raping men two years ago, he was scared. Cindy was crying uncontrollably. The Rapist knew he had to kill her. There was no other way. He sighed deeply, then put the gun to her head and fired.

S
T
. T
HOMAS
was beautiful and a welcome getaway from Washington. Keyth and I had a huge suite that overlooked the white sand beach. We had just made love, and I opened the terrace door to let some fresh air in. A breeze filled the room and dried the sweat on my naked body. Keyth grabbed me around the waist. “Gotcha,” he said. I screamed a little when I felt his sudden touch, then laughed. “I love you, baby,” he told me.

“I love you, too.”

“So what do you wanna do for fun tonight?”

“Oh, I don't know. Maybe dance, or maybe we can stay in the room.” I giggled. “Let's see what Kelly and Simon want to do.”

“They're probably doing what we just finished doing,” Keyth said, nibbling on my ear.

“Probably. Kelly's a real sexpot.”

“Like you're not.”

We stood at the door of the terrace, our naked bodies glistening as the sun set in the distant sky. The glow of it, the beauty of God's creation, was awesome to behold. I remembered that when I was a child in China with my dad, we'd watch the stars. I tried to count them but never could. The beauty of the midnight sky had fascinated me, as it still does.

The warmth of my husband's touch, a beautiful sunset, and not a care in the world relieved the stress of being Special Agent in Charge Phoenix Perry. But it didn't free my mind of thoughts about the Assassin, whose
presence I felt even though she was so far away, still on a killing rampage, I suspected.

I was bothered by my inability to let go of the case, even though I was on a romantic weekend with the love of my life. It felt strange. I was starting to become like so many agents who couldn't separate their personal lives from their jobs. Maybe it was time to leave the bureau.

Maybe I should take my dad up on his offer to come into the business with him. God knows it would be easier on my family, and I'd probably have better hours. I wouldn't have to feel guilty about leaving Savannah all the time and worrying about her while I was on the job.

Losing focus could mean losing your life or causing the death of a partner. The last thing I ever want on my conscience is something happening to Kelly because I was thinking about my family and not staying alert on the job.

I felt Keyth biting into my neck. Not hard, but hard enough to leave evidence that he had been there. I felt myself slipping into the moment and loving it. He turned me around to face him. I could see more than desire in his eyes. Devotion is what registered. At that moment, I was glad that Keyth and I had waited until we got married before we plundered each other's bodies. He's the only man I've ever known, and it made me feel special that he was willing to wait and not pressure me. Although I will admit there were times during heavy petting when, had he not said no, I would have given myself to him.

“Keyth?” He was still biting into my flesh.

“Yeah, baby?” He momentarily released the grip his warm mouth had on my neck.

“Do you remember what you told me when we were at the altar? You know, that list of things you loved about me?”

“Of course, I do.”

Playfully, I said, “Prove it.”

“What do I get if I do?”

“Anything you want.” I smiled.

“Okay, here goes. Phoenix Drew, I believe in you. I trust in you, fully and
completely. When I'm with you, I want to wrap myself in your virtue—your honesty. I adore your ability to make the people around you feel special. Thank you for coming into my life.” He paused for a second. “Well, did I get it right?”

“Yes, you did. Promise me something, honey.”

“Anything.”

“Promise me you'll never forget those words, okay? They remind me of what's truly important.”

“I won't.”

We kissed again, longer and more deeply. My craving for him was renewed with even greater intensity. I ached for Keyth. I felt him against me. But I wanted to kiss him just a little longer—the best foreplay. A sigh escaped my intoxicated mind and found its way out of my open mouth. I was putty in my husband's capable hands—he knew all the right spots. I could hardly stand it.

Then he touched me. The exactness of his touch, the precision of it, the timing was all so perfect—I shivered. He laid me down on the floor, and I surrendered willingly, deliberately. I was losing myself more and more. My mind was somewhere between heaven and earth. The world was still; only Keyth and I existed. Then I opened my eyes and saw the stars beginning to shine in the evening sky. It was the perfect ending to an already incredible day.

H
AVING REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS
, we could hear Kelly and Simon next door on the terrace. Kelly was loud, and Simon was yelling, “IS THAT HOW YOU LIKE IT?”

“YES, YES! OH YES!”

Keyth and I laughed. The screaming went back and forth for another five minutes or so; then quiet consumed the night. A few minutes later, Kelly called and asked if we wanted to go down to the hotel-sponsored beach party. I told her we'd meet them in about an hour. Then I showered and perfumed.