Illusion of Luck 6

Candy opened her box-shaped purse, pulled out the key, and unlocked the door.

Larry had been concerned that they would have to walk through a lobby of prying eyes. How foolish of him to think such a thing. These professionals knew what they were doing. The room was accessible from the parking lot, at the rear of the motel. He wondered how many men she had already brought to this room tonight.

She should have a business card, he thought. Just off the top of his head he could think of some great slogans.

When you absolutely, positively have to get laid.

Dinging dongs since 2002.

She let him in, locked the door, and hooked the chain. Then she sat her plastic-looking purse on the dresser, flipped up the top, dropped the key in, pulled out a box of condoms and began to walk toward him.

Larry guessed she was between 25 and 30. Whatever her age, he wanted her.

Then he remembered he was still wearing his wedding ring. Well, it wasn’t really a wedding ring, since he and Erin never got married. But after they had been together for a year or so, she had suggested they get matching rings. And because he had worn it ever since, he would continue to wear it until Erin’s killer had been caught. Ha. He sounded like O. J.

Why was he worried about what Candy thought, anyway? Hookers have sex with married men all the time.

She moved in close, put her left arm around him as her right hand went down to his crotch.

He got rock-hard immediately.

“Feels like you’re ready to go.” Candy unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants as he un­hooked the single button holding her blouse together. There was no bra to remove.

Larry had never seen such perky breasts. But then, he hadn’t seen very many breasts of any kind. At least not up close and personal. Her luscious lips and her hot tongue were taking his breath away. Erin had never kissed him like this. At the same time, she was stroking him through his underwear with her talented fingers.

“Oops.” She looked down.

“It’s okay. I can come again. Believe me.”

“No problem.” She stepped back and sat on the bed.

As she raised each leg to take off a boot, he could see all the way up between her legs. She was not wearing underwear. And she was clearly showing herself to him on purpose.

He clumsily pulled off his shoes, pants, and sticky under­wear. His jacket and shirt were off in a flash.

Candy removed her final article of clothing—the tight-fit­ting, leather mini-skirt.

The sight before him was breathtaking. And he wondered why he had never done this before.

“Come on, Baby. Let’s have some fun.” She grinned and motioned for him as she slowly spread her legs.

He quickly took a condom out of the package and rolled it on. But as soon as he slid between her legs he came again. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no problem. Is this your first time, Honey?”

“Oh, no. Not at all. But I’ve never—”

“—been with a hooker?”

“Right.”

“So, is that all? Or can you go again?”

“With you I think I could go all night.”

“Now, that’s gonna be pretty expensive, I’m afraid.” She grinned.

“I don’t care.”

“Well, okay then.” She began to kiss him.

Within seconds, he was ready for action again.

**********

Cynthia had been sleeping for about an hour when some­thing woke her. It seemed the curtains were billowing slightly. But she knew she hadn’t opened the window. It was February. She tried to determine whether it was colder in the room. Was there a breeze? But her senses were dull.

“Hello, Baby.” The strange voice was behind her.

She twisted in the covers and saw a dark figure standing over her. She squinted to make out his face, but the dim night­light at his back provided only a silhouette of his overcoat and head.

“You had to know I’d come eventually. I shouldn’t have let you marry that first husband. But I really didn’t think you’d go through with it. I thought you would come to your senses and dump him.”

Cynthia hated guns, but right now she wished she had a big one in her hands.

“And now you’re about to do it again—you’re gonna marry this loser, Greg Tenorly, who doesn’t deserve you.”

She tried to speak, but nothing came out.

“But don’t worry. I’ll take care of him. You won’t have to do a thing. And then I’ll have you all to myself.”

She struggled with all her might to break out of her groggi­ness. The word began to rumble deep with her belly, causing her whole body to shake violently until it erupted from her mouth. “No!”

He was gone.

Her heart was racing. She turned on the table lamp and ran to the window. It was closed and locked.

After taking a couple of slow, deep breaths, she got back into bed.

It was the emails—they were giving her nightmares. But it was silly. She’d already determined they were coming from a horny teenage boy. They were meant for some high school girl—not for her.

She rolled over and went back to sleep.

**********

“So, are we done?” said Candy.

Larry was lying beside her on the bed. “One more time. How about doggy-style?”

“It’s your money.” Candy sounded tired.

She turned around and got up on all fours.

Larry hopped off the bed.

She waited while he put on another condom. The cheap bed frame wobbled as he crawled toward her from the rear.

“Okay, big guy. Give me your best shot.”

She felt something brush across the top of her head and down past her face. Then it tightened around her neck.

“What are you do—?” She couldn’t breathe, much less talk.

He had looped his belt through the buckle and thrown the noose over her head. He jumped on her back and rode her like a bronco—pulling back on the reins as hard as he could. He wasn’t too concerned that the people next door would hear the ruckus. It sounded like the couple in that room was too busy getting their rocks off to notice.

Finally, her limbs gave way and her body lurched forward, crashing her head into the headboard with a sickening thud. She lie still, and Larry loosened his grip, thinking she might be dead. He leaned down to see if she was still breathing.

She jerked her head back, directly into his nose, dazing him. Then she tried with all her might to push him off.

He rolled off the bed and landed hard—flat on his back. He feared the thinly-carpeted concrete floor had done major dam­age to his tailbone. But the end of the belt was still in his hand. And Candy’s body was falling toward him. Before he could react, one of her fists hit him like a hockey puck—right in the balls.

The back of her head flew toward his nose. Just in time, he turned slightly—only to feel the crunch of her skull hitting his cheekbone.

For a moment, he lost the will to fight.

Candy sensed it and tried to jump up.

But he grabbed the belt with both hands and gave it a vio­lent yank.

She collapsed to the floor next to him.

He checked her pulse.

Nothing.

Finally, he thought. Her neck was probably broken.

He surveyed the room. What a mess he had made. He gath­ered the four used condoms, and put them in one of his jacket pockets. Then he used soap and hot water and a hand towel to clean her up.

He put her on the bed and stared at her naked body. She had been a lot of fun. But she had to die. He couldn’t afford to have her talking to the police.

He had concocted a perfect plan to murder Erin and get away with it. And he could not allow this woman to ruin his plans—no matter how sexy and likeable she was.

Yes, Lucky Larry was lucky indeed—as always. He got to have the best sex of his life. Then he got to do another murder. He wasn’t sure which he enjoyed more—committing murder or writing about it afterwards. His readers were going to love this chapter, he thought.

He knew he would be leaving traces of his DNA in the room. But he doubted that police would make much of an effort to find the killer. Just another dead hooker. So, what did it matter?

He started to leave.

“Wow, that was close. Almost forgot,” he whispered to him­self.

He unlatched the top of her purse and flipped it open. Then he dumped the contents on the dresser and began to search.

“There you are.” He smiled. It was the card with his license plate number on it. He had seen her writing it down when he was parking the car at the convenience store.

He flipped the card over and read it.

Melanie Maylin – Attorney at Law

Yeah, he wasn’t surprised a hooker would have an attorney to bail her out of jail whenever necessary.

The card was all he needed. But he was curious. He opened her wallet and looked at her driver’s license.

“No! It can’t be.”

He felt ill. Candy looked different in her driver’s license photo. Her hair was brown instead of black. And, of course, she was wearing more clothes.

And her name was not Candy.

It was Melanie Maylin – Attorney at Law!