by Samson Weld
However, he had a feeling that it would only implicate him more into this business with Suzy. Innocent people just don’t find themselves in the middle of crime scenes day after day. This had to be how that police thought, anyway. Once they start investigating you, it’s because they think you’re guilty.
How had Lars Moultrup put it already? He was proverbially fucked.
Nick stood up again, his mind too preoccupied to remain stationary. He inspected a shelf onto which were some golf trophies and World’s Best Grandpa mugs. He opened a closet and found two boxes. Despite the poor lighting, he noticed the handwritten label read New York Investors. He found nothing of interest and shut the door.
“We’ll tell them it was a coincidence,” Anne-Marie said, adamant.
“Tell who?”
“The police. We explain that this thing today was a coincidence.”
“Was it? We followed a lead and almost got killed for it. We’re getting too close to the truth.”
He went to the oversize mahogany desk and rifled through the drawers. Reaching the bottom one, he found a bottle of scotch and two glasses. That was the first good news he’d come across today.
“What about Charlie’s body?”
Nick poured two drinks and brought them back to the couch where he sat again.
“Trust me, these guys already took care of it.”
Anne-Marie took his hand in hers and scooted closer. “I was so scared, Nick. I thought they were going to kill us.”
After taking a sip, he set his glass down and wrapped his arm around her shoulders in comfort. He hadn’t planned on doing it. It was instinct. Better yet, she didn’t stop him.
“It’s okay now, we’re all right.”
She gazed up into his eyes and he couldn’t look away. She was more beautiful now than she’d ever been. It was a wonder it had taken him so long to notice. She craned her neck and he met her halfway with an easy, tender kiss. Their lips moved in harmony, soft and moist and he could see himself kissing her for years on end.
This was such a peculiar sensation, he thought. He was so used to those easy, commercial dates. He paid money, the women pretended to care about him, and it was good enough to lose himself for an hour or two.
Tonight, it was different. He was feeling something he didn’t know was still within him. It was more than lust although he couldn’t put a word on it.
Their fervor hardened until they were truly making out. Nick took her glass away and put it on the table so it wouldn’t be in the way. Their hands joined as they explored each other’s mouths with their tongues. He felt like a clumsy teenager once again.
He touched her leg and felt her body heat through the thin fabric of her rayon pants. She caressed him back, grazing his strong arms and broad chest. She evidently couldn’t wait to see what was underneath his clothes. The feeling was mutual. Nick started to undo her blouse while she fumbled with his pants.
They groped at each other almost clumsily, their lips never parting longer than it took to inhale. Their kisses were hungry, unappeasable. He looked down at her voluptuous chest and felt he was in heaven.
He kneaded her heavy breasts, making her purr in delight. They were soon naked on the cold leather and neither cared. Their own heat enveloped them.
“Take me,” she moaned into his neck.
She spread her legs for him and he took a moment to study her flawless body. It was shaped like an hourglass and it was the color of warm sand. But he admired it for only a moment since his need was growing. He sheathed himself within her and at once she was trembling against him.
They kissed again and allowed their coupling to be fast and hot-blooded. It was only after they had climaxed that they took their time. Their second instance together was languorous, but just as passionate.
In spite of the fact that this was Nick’s best evening in a long time, that he didn’t want to budge from Anne-Marie’s side, he had an idea about what to do next.
It was dangerous, but there was no other way.
Chapter 18
It wasn’t lost on Nick that he had never done anything risky in his life before. Of course, the first time he had been with an escort he’d been aware that it wasn’t exactly kosher. But he rationalized that it was a victimless crime. After all, he wasn’t into anything kinky.
He didn’t meet with Eastern European girls who were likely part of sex slave rings. He stuck with reputable agencies. The ladies he slept with were actresses and models waiting for their big break. They were college students trying to make ends meet. Some even admitted that they were hoping to meet a sugar daddy.
But what he was about to do was the first life-threatening act he would ever commit. It was downright dangerous. But he had no choice.
They left the office and headed east. They got to a Walmart minutes before it closed. The elderly greeter’s face couldn’t hide his disappointment at the last customers’ arrival.
They headed for the electronic products section and bought a cheap, yet portable, boom box. Nick was amazed that they still made those. Then, they went to the music department and stopped in front of a selection of hip-hop CDs. Again, he was surprised that CDs were still a thing. Wasn’t it all digital these days? Apparently not.
“How am I supposed to know what kind of music they like?”
Anne-Marie merely shrugged. He wondered if it was racist to assume all young black men were into rap. On the other hand, he had difficulty believing these kids were into Mozart. He pushed the thought from his mind and chose an apparently bestselling CD. The cover featured a mean-looking man holding a shotgun. That—and the Parental Advisory sticker—convinced him it would do the trick.
After picking up some batteries, they brought their purchases to the car and drove further east. Since the nineteenth century St. Laurent Boulevard had served as the traditional divide between English speakers to the west and French speakers to the east. Because early on the wealthy business owners were Anglophones, the east had become known for its working-class ghettos and industrial wastelands.
Nick could see the results outside his window. Rundown buildings, scores of homeless people. Some neighborhoods were getting gentrified, but this only drove out the poorest and accentuated the decrepitude of the other neighborhoods. Finally, they stopped a block away from Motel Désirs.
A blind alley ran behind the motel and that’s exactly where Nick scampered to. He had taken advantage of the free time in the car to get the sound system ready, installing the D-cell batteries and inserting the CD.
He felt like some secret agent, a feeling that was as exciting as it was frightening. Then there was a presence next to him and found Anne-Marie observing him.
“Did we really have to come back tonight?” she asked, having second thoughts.
She had tagged along, but remained uncomfortable with the whole idea. He had told her multiple times that she didn’t need to be here, just like she shouldn’t have spent the day with him as he investigated. Yet she had remained by his side.
Nick was more determined than he had been in a long time. For years, he had settled into his career, into his routine. He had gotten soft, he decided. He didn’t have to fight for anything anymore. There had been a time when there was a challenge at every turn. Getting good grades, getting into a good college, landing a scholarship, then an enviable career.
He had forgotten how hard life could be. It had taken a fight for his life to remind him.
He stared beyond the alley, not looking at anything. He was lost in thought, weighing his options, but not finding any easy way out. There was only going through.
“The solution is definitely inside this motel,” he said. “The girl got killed by these guys. If we can find out why, I’ll be off the hook.”
He didn’t have to elaborate because he had already told Anne-Marie his theory. Charlie had been about to tell them everything. He had been Suzy’s boyfriend, no? He was bound to know her secrets. And that was exactly when Wilky and Makenson ha
d killed him.
The secret was inside the motel.
Nick set the stereo down and placed it at an angle to get maximum sound distribution. He produced the small remote control that came with it and tested the setup by playing the first track at low volume. It worked.
“Come on.”
They went to the end of the alley and then crossed the street. They crouched in the shadows of what seem to be an abandoned bus stop. From this position, they had a good vantage point on both the motel and the alley.
Wilky and Makenson were still at their posts near the motel entrance. They were standing, talking. Makenson was puffing on a cigarette.
“Here goes nothing,” Nick said as he extended his arm and hit buttons on the remote control.
The music’s volume increased and the sound of gangsta rap was unmistakable. The artist gruffly shouted something about fuckin’ hoes and sparkling fo’ all the honeys and hung niggaz swaggerin’. He figured he had made the right choice.
He cranked the volume all the way until the two black men perked up. They glanced at each other, clearly at a loss as to what was happening.
“It’s working,” Anne-Marie said.
The music had their attention, but it wasn’t yet a victory. The two men were looking around. It was as if there was a party going on and they weren’t sure if they’d been invited. After a moment, they made a decision. They went to investigate and disappeared behind the motel.
Yes!
“Ready?” Nick whispered to Anne-Marie.
She nodded and they both took off toward the motel, staying low to make sure no one saw them. The diversion had worked. The two guys were nowhere to be seen.
~ ~ ~ ~
Someone had seen them though.
On the other street corner was Xavier. He had been following Nick all day. His motto was that if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself. So he had trailed the son of a bitch.
He leaned against a brick wall, arms crossed, smiling privately at having the upper hand for once.
~ ~ ~ ~
Nick controlled his breathing as he walked into the motel. He held Anne-Marie’s hand in his, anything to appear nonchalant. Harmless.
The motel itself belonged in a museum. It featured a dreadful combination of prefab wall paneling, threadbare shaggy carpeting, and dim lighting from an antiquated electrical system. And as a bonus came the stench of stale cigarette smoke.
The employee manning the front desk was a middle-age woman. Everything about her screamed that she was worn out both psychologically and physically. She was missing a row of teeth which made her cheeks cave in.
“How do you do?” the American greeted. “We’ve heard great things about a young lady named Shana. Is she available right now?”
She barely looked up from her gossip magazine when Nick and Anne-Marie approached her.
“You no appointment?” she asked in mangled English.
“I’m afraid not, no.”
“You with her?”
Nick glanced at Anne-Marie and found her quite uncomfortable. “Yes, we were hoping for a couples session.”
The receptionist hesitated for a moment and then shrugged. She was the type of woman who had seen everything and nothing surprised her.
“I have Selena free right now. She beautiful.”
Nick resisted high-fiving Anne-Marie. They were in! Instead he said soberly, “Okay, we’ll take her.”
He beamed at the receptionist like a guy who was about to get laid.
~ ~ ~ ~
Out in the alley, Wilky and Makenson warily approached the boom box.
They looked at it as if it was some alien artifact. They took deliberate steps toward it while looking around constantly. Could it be an ambush?
There hadn’t been a gang war in these parts in a few years. But then why would someone leave a brand-new stereo in the middle of an alley? Somebody was definitely looking to get robbed.
“Something’s wrong.”
That was the understatement of the year, Wilky thought. They drew their pistols.
~ ~ ~ ~
Back in the day, this motel had been quite innovative. It was double-wide and had two rows of rooms, on two floors. They were accessible through a long corridor indoors. At the time, it had made it classy, almost like a real hotel.
This was one of the main reasons why the Désirs Érotiques escort agency had elected to use it to house its operations. The lack of direct outdoor access made it impossible for the girls to take off without notice.
Nick and Anne-Marie walked down the hallway slowly, cautiously. They inspected the numbers on the doors; they were nowhere near their destination. The distinct sound of sex was audible through the thin walls. They heard moaning and grunting and the occasional high-pitched scream of a fake orgasm.
They kept on walking. They were so close to finding the truth.
~ ~ ~ ~
Police sirens echoed through the city.
Across the street from the motel, Xavier the pimp was grinning with satisfaction as he heard the sirens in the distance.
He had called nine-one-one, anonymously, of course. In a high-pitched, panicked voice, he had claimed that there was a rape in progress. He gave the address of an apartment just down the street from the motel.
He was enjoying this, knowing that this New York asshole had to be sweating right now. It was important to put as much pressure on him as possible.
The cops were fast approaching.
~ ~ ~ ~
The siren made its way past the walls and inside the motel.
In normal circumstances, the wailing sound of emergency vehicles was part of urban life. Tonight was different. Nick and Anne-Marie knew it and stopped in their tracks. The noise was getting louder.
Closer.
It was loud enough to drown out the rapturous moans coming from the surrounding rooms. They looked at one another as they stood in front of room two twelve, their destination. Anne-Marie was anxious.
“We can’t stay here, Nick.”
“But we’re here,” he said in a plaintive voice. “We can’t turn back.”
“If they pick you up, they’ll throw you in jail.”
It was hard to find fault with her reasoning. As much as he wanted to go in and question the girl inside, he had to think of medium-term consequences. The police car getting yet closer. If they weren’t arrested, they at least would be questioned and that would be another checkmark against Nick.
Crestfallen to have to jump ship moments away from discovering the truth, Nick nodded to her. They headed straight for the emergency exit and ran as quickly as they could.
Chapter 19
Nick meandered through the lobby Vu3 Hotel with Anne-Marie by his side. The place was empty save for the skeleton crew of the night shift. A maintenance man was sweeping the floor. A clerk was half-asleep behind the reception desk. They paid little attention to them as they headed to the elevator.
“Looks like your stroke of genius will have to wait until morning,” Anne-Marie said.
They had hurried out of the motel, terrified of being nabbed by the cops. Once they were in the car though, they saw that the police had been called to another building. They had chickened out. It wasn’t an overreaction with what was going on in Nick’s life at the moment, but they had both felt silly.
With the threat not immediate, they had flirted with the idea of going back in. After all, no one else had run away like they had. They must be used to police sirens around here, he thought. Unlike him.
He said, “It’s probably better to wait anyway. I’m bushed.”
“Yeah, this is stimulating stuff. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this exhausted.”
He called the elevator by pushing the button. Something strange was happening within him. He was scared of what would happen to him, his life threatened from every angle, and yet it was making him feel alive for the first time in years. It was as if this whole weekend was pulling him out of his ru
t.
“Exhausted, but also…”
She looked up at him. “Also what?”
“And a little excited, right? I mean, this is messed up, I know that, but there’s this feeling. Like it’s… exhilarating.”
She couldn’t deny that this was so far out of her comfort zone that it was beginning to go beyond stressful. It was actually stimulating. Her cheeks reddened and she nodded.
“A little, yes.”
He mirrored her and nodded too. “We’d better call it a night then.”
“Good idea.”
They shared a thin smile and then coyly leaned toward each other as if they were teenagers on a first date. He kissed her, but it was short and chaste, especially considering what they’d done earlier in her boss’s office.
He almost changed his mind as she pressed her body against his. He wanted to drag her upstairs and throw her on his bed, anything to feel what he’d felt before. He couldn’t ignore his fatigue though.
They broke the kiss and she walked away while he got into the elevator. He couldn’t wait until morning.
~ ~ ~ ~
As much as he hadn’t slept the night before, Nick found that he’d slept like a baby when he awoke Sunday morning.
The sex, the stress, the whiskey, it had all taken a toll on him. It was only when he was up that he remembered the amount of trouble he was in.
At least now he was rested to deal with it, he figured.
He had coffee and toast in his room after his morning routine. Then he went down to the lobby and found it dark with very little sunlight. He saw through the windows that the sky was grey outside. He hadn’t noticed this in his room. As luxurious as the hotel was, there was something depressing about the cold artificial lighting.
He walked to the front desk and once again spotted Henri at his post. He came over right away, beaming.
“Good morning, Mr. Eversull.”
“Good morning, Henri.”
“Did you sleep well? Everything is to your satisfaction?”
“Everything was perfect, thank you.”