Toby stood under the hot, almost scalding water, thinking about the three men he was going to try to entrap over the next two days. “Did one of you who killed Geri? Or am I still waiting to hear from the person responsible?” He leaned back into the spray, letting the water spill over his face and down his chest. When the water began to cool, he turned off the shower and pulled down a towel. He dried himself, and combed his hair. When he looked in the mirror, he didn’t understand what he saw in his reflection, and wasn’t sure he wanted to understand.
On Saturday, Toby tried to keep busy and did everything he could think of to keep his mind occupied. Much sooner than he’d hoped, the day was over. After everyone had left, Tom Anderson arrived, accompanied by Laurie. Toby showed them around the spa, and they conferred over where they might place the electronics. After some very grim but purposeful consideration, Toby decided the best place for him to meet with the potential murderer was in the room where Geri had been killed. There would be a fine sense of justice served if they were able to catch the murderer in the same room he’d committed the first, horrific act.
Right at seven o’clock, Mitchell indicated it was time for them to leave. Tom and Laurie weren’t done with their work so Toby made arrangements to meet them back at the spa early Sunday afternoon. Mitchell escorted them out while Toby threw a few things he needed into a duffle bag. Toby turned off the lights and locked the front door, and then he and Mitchell walked to the car. Toby looked out the passenger side window as Mitchell drove, neither in the mood for conversation.
“I was worried you’d been delayed downtown,” Reightman greeted them from her place at the small breakfast bar. She was nursing a cup of coffee and had a portable carafe sitting on the counter near her.
“No, nothing delayed us. I wanted to give Anderson and Laurie as much time as possible before having to leave. As it turns out, they have to come back tomorrow anyway.” Toby took a few bottles of water from his duffle bag and placed them into the refrigerator, keeping one for himself. “You want a bottle of water, Mitchell?”
“No, but hand me one of the diet colas. I think I’m going to need the caffeine.”
The three of them stayed in the kitchen another few minutes, although the conversation was stilted and each was occupied with their own thoughts. Reightman checked her watch and stood from the barstool. “I think it’s time to get situated, Mitchell. I want to make sure all of the equipment is working, and it might be good to give Toby a few minutes alone before Brookmeyer arrives.”
Mitchell agreed, and he and Reightman left the kitchen. Toby finished his water and grabbed a couple more from the fridge before picking up the duffle bag and going back to the room where he’d set up. He took off his shoes and socks and changed into a pair of athletic shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, leaving his feet bare. He took a small dopp kit out of the duffle and went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. Then he splashed water on his face. Toby went back into the guest bedroom and took a couple of towels from his bag and put them on the dresser. He arranged the bottles of oil and lotion next to them and them adjusted the table position so that everything was in arms reach. He threw a sheet on the table, smoothing out the creases. He didn’t bother adding a top sheet, realizing tonight’s sessions probably wouldn’t call for the usual professional draping.
He removed the copy of the photo he would need for the first session and folded it in half, placing it on the small desk, held down by the stapler. Finally, he checked the position of the panic button underneath the table and the one hidden at the head of the bed. When he was finished with everything he could think to do, he sat on the edge of the table and waited.
After what seemed like a long time, he checked the time. “Nine minutes after eight.” He quickly scanned his phone for missed messages, and just as he was done, the front doorbell rang. Toby froze, immobile for a moment, until the doorbell rang again. He forced himself to walk out of the bedroom and into the hall.
Mitchell stood in the doorway to the other bedroom. “I’ll be right here,” he assured him, before stepping back and gently shutting the door.
Toby walked to the front door, and after taking a deep breath, he opened it.
“Hi,” the man on the doorstep said shyly. “I hope this is the right place. Are you, Bailey?”
It took Toby a second to remember he’d used his last name in the ad. “Yeah, I am.” He gave the man a small smile. “And if you’re Carlton, you’re in the right place. Come on in.” Toby stepped back and held the door as the man stepped into the living room.
Carlton Brookmeyer stood slightly over six feet tall, appeared to be in his mid to late thirties and had a thin, willowy built. Toby noticed his skin was bright red, as if he’d been out in the sun a lot. He held his hands tightly at his side, and Toby noticed he seemed apprehensive. “Is something wrong, Carlton?”
The man darted his gaze back to Toby. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just a little nervous, I guess.”
“I’ll have to see how I can help you relax then. That’s why you’re here, right?” Toby gave the man what he hoped was a sexy smile. Apparently it worked, because Carlton relaxed.
“Yes,” Carlton said, attempting a sexy smile of his own, while giving Toby a slow appraisal. Carlton’s smile grew slightly larger, liking what he saw.
“Follow me then, Carlton. I’m set up in the guest bedroom.” Toby turned to lead the way, looking back over his shoulder to make sure that Carlton was following. “Coming?”
Carlton gave what Toby thought was supposed to be a lascivious smirk. “Not yet, but I hope to be soon.”
Toby felt his smile freeze, but quickly arranged his features into a more normal expression. “Let’s head on back, and we can get started.”
Once in the room, Carlton seemed surprised at the set-up. “You’re going to use a real table? The guy I was with…I mean, that I went to before, just used the bed.”
Toby turned toward the dresser and busied himself rearranging the towels so Carlton wouldn’t see the expression on his face. “He means Geri.” Toby turned and made himself smile. “I thought we’d start on the table, Carlton. I can explore your body more fully when you are stretched out under me. Is that okay?”
Toby saw the man’s Adam’s apple move as Carlton swallowed and looked at the table, eager to begin. “That sounds fun.” He looked back up at Toby, unsure of about what was supposed to happen next. “I almost forgot,” he said reaching into his front pocket. “You’re probably waiting on this.” He pulled out a roll of bills and handed it to Toby. “It’s all there, just like we agreed. You can count it if you want.”
Toby took the small roll of bills from him. “I trust you, Carlton – there’s no need to count it. Now, why don’t you get undressed? Do you want me to use oil, or lotion?”
“Lotion, I guess….” Toby could hear him removing his clothing so he grabbed a bottle of lotion from the dresser, picked up a towel and turned back to Carlton who now stood completely naked a few feet from the table. His frame was loosely muscled, with a little extra softness around his waist and hips. There was a smattering of dark hair on his thin chest which continued down to his groin. His entire body was red, just like his face. Toby tried to think of something to say to put the man at ease. “You look like you have been getting some sun.”
“I go to the tanning salon several times a week. I don’t tan easily, but I like a little color on my skin. I think it makes me look better.”
Toby didn’t comment, thinking that Carlton would look much better if he’d refrain from tanning beds entirely. “This lotion should feel good on your skin.” Toby walked to the table, continuing his perusal and noting the somewhat large identifying birthmark which appeared prominently in the photos.
Carlton noticed where he was looking. “I know, it’s ugly, isn’t it? I’ve been thinking of having it removed.”
“It’s not ugly at all.” Toby assured him. “It makes you unique.” Carlton Junior was a
lready standing at attention. “He’s willowy all over,” Toby thought distractedly, before sternly reminding himself what was at stake. He quickly looked away from the eager appendage, and focused on the man’s red face. “You’re all tense and …stiff, so why don’t you get up on the table and we’ll get started. Face down to start.” Carlton positioned himself on top and then rolled over awkwardly and stretched himself out on its length.
Toby walked toward the table with the bottle of lotion in his hand. “Is the room warm enough, Carlton?”
“Yes, its fine. I bet it’ll get hot in here before too long!”
Toby was at a loss for a witty rejoinder, so made few adjustments to the man’s position and then poured a little of the lotion into the palm of his hand. He placed the bottle between Carlton’s slightly spread legs, and rubbed his palms together to warm the liquid. He leaned slightly forward and placed his hands on Carlton’s lower back, right above the buttocks. The man jerked slightly and Toby firmed his hands. “Just relax. Carlton.” He worked his way up the spine until he was in the middle of the shoulders.
“Bailey?” the man on the table asked. “Aren’t you going to take off your clothes?”
Toby forced his hands to keep moving, trying to get past the revulsion running through his body. “Yeah, I just wanted to get you good and slick first.” He stepped away and closed his eyes briefly, overwhelmed by the situation. He took a few steading breaths and quickly removed his t-shirt and rolled it up before tossing it on the bed. Then he unbuttoned his shorts. At the sound of the zipper being pulled down, Carlton lifted his head and turned to watch while Toby pulled them down and stepped out of them. “You can leave the jockstrap on. It’s sexy.”
“Thanks.” Toby walked back to the table and added more lotion to his hands. He massaged the man’s shoulders and back and then each of the arms. He worked his way down the sides and then spent a considerable about of time on Carlton’s glutes and thighs. As he worked his way up the man’s inner thigh, Carlton started to tremble and spread his legs slightly wider. As he began to moan softly, Toby suddenly realized what was happening. “Oh shit! I hope I can make this short and sweet.” Toby increased his pressure slightly and nudged the man’s legs apart. He climbed up on the table and positioned himself between the man’s legs and continued rubbing the now lifted buttocks, parting the cheeks as he did. He moved his hands back to the thighs and stroked the inner flesh, moving his finger upward until he brushed the ball sack. The volume of Carlton’s moans increased while he rubbed himself against the sheet. Toby blocked everything out of his mind until the man arched his back, and with a few frantic thrusts, came. Loudly. “Well, Mitchell and Reightman certainly heard that,” he thought in dismay.
Toby quickly removed himself from the table and Carlton turned over, evidence of his relief apparent. “I’m sorry I finished so fast, Bailey, but your hands felt really good and I kept imaging you behind me in that jockstrap. I couldn’t help myself.”
“That’s okay. The main thing is you enjoyed it, Carlton. Now let me clean you up, and I’ll finish with a real massage. For some reason, I don’t think you’ve ever had one before.” Twenty-five minutes later, Toby finished. “How was that?” he asked.
“It was nice,” Carlton decided. “I liked it – just not as much as the first part. Next time, I think I’d like you to work the front first, without the jockstrap.”
“I hope there isn’t a next time!” Toby hoped fervently as he pulled a towel from the stack on the dresser. “Yeah, that’d be great.” Toby handed Carlton the fresh towel. “We’re done, so you can wipe yourself off and get dressed now.”
Toby reached down and picked his discarded shorts from the floor and pulled them on. Then he put on his t-shirt and walked to the desk. “Now, we can net the fish.” He pulled the photocopy out from beneath the stapler and walked to the man who was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on his socks. “I have something for you.” Toby handed Carlton the folded paper.
Carlton unfolded it and looked at the picture. “That’s me,” He said, puzzled. “Where’d you get this?”
“A friend left it for me, Carlton. Someone I think you knew, intimately.” Carlton continued to look at him with a confused and unknowing face, so Toby clarified, “The other masseur you used to get together with for some fun.”
Carlton’s face cleared as he realized who Toby was talking about. “Oh! You mean, Jerry.” He looked back down at the photo. “Yeah, I recognize him now that you mention it. You can’t really see much of his face but I’d recognize his dick anywhere. What am I supposed to do with this?”
“I thought we could come to the same arrangement you had with him.”
Carlton frowned in concentration, trying to remember what deal he’d made with Geri. “You want free checking and automatic overdraft protection on a business account? That’s no problem – just come on down to the bank and I’ll set it up. I do that for a lot of people.”
“I think your arrangement with him included a lot more than that. You know – to keep this all private.”
Carlton’s forehead creased again. “I’m not sure what you mean. I booked with Jerry a lot, sometimes several times a week, and he’d let me pay in advance for several sessions at a time. Sometimes that amounted to a lot of cash.” Carlton shrugged and slipped on his shoes. “You want to make the same arrangement? I don’t have that much cash with me, but I can bring it next time.”
“Aren’t you worried I might show this photo, and the others he left me, to someone?” Now Toby was the one confused.
Carlton stood from the bed and tucked in his shirt. “No, not really. My family knows I’m gay, and there are worse – much worse – photos of me already out on the internet. There are a couple of really hot videos, too.” He laid the used towel back on the table. “Hey, Bailey, I hope you weren’t thinking you could blackmail me or anything. That would be dumb, because there’s nothing to blackmail me with – certainly not that photo. Besides, I think it’s illegal to blackmail someone.” Toby shook his head, Carlton smiled approvingly. “Good. Now come on down to the bank any afternoon this week and I’ll get you set up with an account. I’ll email to set up some more appointments, too. Why don’t I pay you for about six in advance?”
“Sure,” Toby agreed, wondering exactly what had happened. “That’d be great, Carlton.” He held open the door to let the man out of the room and Carlton spotted the bottles of water.
“Can I take one of these? I’m really thirsty.”
“Sure.” Toby felt slightly dazed as he offered him one of the bottles. “It’s important to hydrate after a massage.” He escorted Carlton Brookmeyer to the front door, and decided to give him some advice. “Carlton, I think it would be better to lay off the tanning beds. They’re really bad for you, and you could end up with some really awful skin damage. Plus, I think you’ll actually look better without your skin being so red.”
“You may be right, Bailey. Thanks for the advice, and the hot session!” With a satisfied, contented smile, he walked out the door and Toby and watched him drive away.
Mitchell was already in the back room when he got there, and Detective Reightman joined him a few seconds later. Toby placed the used towels in the middle of the table and started rolling the sheet over them.
“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Reightman said.
“Not for Brookmeyer!”
Reightman shot Mitchell an annoyed glance, feeling her face flush at his words. “Well, speaking of that – which I would just as soon we not–”she said irritably as she handed Toby the white plastic garbage bag she’d brought into the room with her, “bag those up in this. If we need a DNA sample, I guess we’ve got one.” After Toby had tied the bag shut, she took a black marker and wrote Brookmeyer’s full name, and the date and time, on the bag. “Based on the last part of your conversation, I think we can move Mr. Brookmeyer to the bottom of our suspect list, but I’d rather keep this until we’re sure. I’ll get it to Tom tomorrow and he ca
n take the samples he needs.”
“Have him burn it all when he’s done,” Toby said, disillusioned and frustrated by his experience. “I don’t think I’ll want those towels anymore.”
Reightman nodded, understanding his disappointment, and carried the bag out of the room.
“Are you all right?” Mitchell asked, handing him a bottle of hand sanitizer.
“I think so. It was no worse than I’d expected. In fact, it was better. I didn’t have to do as much to…” he let the words trail off as he finished with the hand cleaner and handed the bottle back to Mitchell.
Mitchell put the bottle back down on the dresser. “Brookmeyer did…uh…finish kind of quickly.” When Toby didn’t reply Mitchell added seriously, “Toby, they probably won’t all be that easy.”
“I know. I just hope this isn’t all for nothing.” Toby checked the phone for the current time. “I have about an hour and a half before the next one shows up. Do you mind if I use your shower?”
“No, help yourself. I think you’ll be able to find anything you need in there. You want me to find some food or something?”
Toby picked up his t-shirt from the bed and started to the door. “No, I’m not really hungry. I’ll get some more water when I’m done showering.”
Mitchell heard the bathroom door close and then the sound of water being turned on.
“How is he?” Reightman asked as he entered the kitchen.
“I’m not sure. He said it wasn’t as bad as he expected, but I can tell he’s really bothered by the whole thing. He’s taking a shower now.” Mitchell started pulling out bread and a bag of chips. He rummaged around in the refrigerator for a while. “You want a sandwich?” he asked, over his shoulder. “I think I have some lunchmeat and a few slices of cheese that are still good.”
“Sure, might as well.” A few minutes later he placed a small plate with the assembled sandwich in front of her. “Are you going to make one for Toby?”
“He said he wasn’t hungry.”
“Make him one anyway. He needs to eat something or he is going to be a nervous wreck.”
Hard Job: Reightman & Bailey Book Two Page 15