Naked Frame

by Robert Burton Robinson

  Bobby led them to the door and opened it. They saw another one of Joey's goons waiting in the hallway. "My associate will assist you to the exit."

  Gabby and Rebecca walked out of the room, into the hallway. Bobby closed the door.

  The thug said, "Follow me."

  Gabby followed, but Rebecca lingered at the door for a moment, trying to hear what Joey and Bobby were saying inside.

  The man turned around and saw that Rebecca was not following him. "What the hell are you doing, Lady?"

  "Uh, sorry. My shoe fell off." She slipped it back on and hurried to catch up.

  "Stay with me." He led them out of the building.

  Once they were outside, walking back to Gabby's shop, Gabby said. "What were you doing in the hallway?"

  "Listening."

  "Hear anything?"

  "Yeah. Bobby was worried about what to do if Wiley showed up tonight."

  "That's interesting." Rebecca could see that Gabby's mind was churning. "What are you plotting now?"

  "A way to find out what Wiley knows. Yeah, I'm sure it'll work. But you'd have to go sleazy. You know. A little slutty."

  "Wouldn't be the first time."

  CHAPTER 6 - Monday, 11:52 p.m.

  It was nearly midnight when Phillipa Thagery drove up to the gate. She smiled at the guard. He returned a smile and waved her through.

  All the guards knew Phillipa well. The brilliant, attractive young black woman was Senior Research Scientist in Product Development at Smotherburn Technologies. Big Bill had given her a free hand and almost unlimited resources to develop a device he hoped would make him a fortune.

  Phillipa parked her car, grabbed the McDonald's bag from the front seat, and walked up to the retina scanner at the back door of her lab. She inserted her key card and leaned in to the scanner. The automatic door swung open, and she entered.

  She walked through the ultra-modern lab to her office, sat down, and retrieved a bottled water from the mini-fridge next to her desk.

  As she took the Big Mac and fries out of the bag, she told herself that someday she would eat better. It wouldn't always be like this. Soon she would have everything she wanted. And she'd never work nights again.

  Phillipa took a bite of the Big Mac. She heard something out in the lab...a toilet flushing.

  She got up from her desk and walked out to the lab. "Hello? Who's there?"

  "It's me, Phillipa. Wiley."

  William Wiley Smotherburn was Big Bill's one and only child. And a big pain in the butt. The twenty-two year old had recently graduated with a degree in drama. He had hoped it would be easy to break into Hollywood. His dad could pull a few strings, offer a few bribes.

  But Big Bill had refused to help Wiley in any way. He wanted his son in the family business, working a real job. He told Wiley it was time he earned his keep, and hired him as a lab tech.

  Phillipa had told Big Bill she would quit rather than continue to work with Wiley. He ignored her threats. They both knew she was bluffing. She wouldn't leave. Not when all her dreams were about to come true. "How did you get in here?"

  "Henry let me in."

  "That damn Henry had no business letting you in. What's the point of a retina scanner, if the guards are going to bypass it?"

  "Well, since we're both here...all alone..." He walked up close to her. "Why don't we take a load off? Relax on the couch in your office."

  "Don't make me file sexual harassment charges against you, Wiley. Because I will, you know."

  He put his hands up. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Please accept my humble apologies."

  Acting. Everything Wiley said or did was an act. Nobody knew the real man. And Phillipa didn't wish to. "Why are you here at this hour?"

  "Because I came in late this morning, and I took kind of a long lunch."

  "No, you wandered in at precisely 11:22 a.m., and left at 12:15. You returned from lunch at 3:45."

  "Wow, I had no idea you were keeping tabs on me."

  "Your father asked me to."

  "Why? Because you've been complaining about me?"

  "That's correct."

  "Well, at least you're honest. Unlike Simpson in accounting."

  "I expect you to be here from eight to five, like everybody else. Not to come in at all hours of the night trying to make up your time."

  "What's the difference? You're here practically 24/7."

  "The hours I'm here in the lab are none of your concern. I enjoy working alone at night."

  "But wouldn't it be nice to have a partner?" Before she could respond, he said, "Hey, what's that gadget over there on the workbench?" He went over to check it out. "I've never seen one of these before. Is it some top secret thing? Is that why you don't want anyone body else up here at night?"

  She smiled nervously. "You watch too much TV. It's just a new type of TENS unit."

  Wiley launched into his TV commercial voice. "TENS, or Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation, is used to treat pain with electrical pulses. Two or more electrodes are attached to pads, which are applied to the skin. The pads are similar to EKG pads."

  "Very good. Now go home."

  He picked up a little black thing, shaped like a small watermelon seed. "What's this?"

  "Put that down. It's an electrode. It attaches to a pad. Same as all the others."

  "You think I'm stupid, don't you? Just a dumb actor. This is not like the others. Where's the wire?"

  "Put it down, Wiley."

  "He held it up to the light. There's something inside. A computer chip."

  "Give me that."

  "It's an implant, isn't it? It goes under your skin."

  She stared at him.

  "I knew it!"

  "Now put it down. And go home."

  "What's it going to be for?"

  "You must not tell anyone about this. Do you understand?"

  "Sure, sure, I know. I won't tell anybody."

  "It will work like the others, only better."

  "To kill the pain."

  "Reduce the pain. And do it more effectively than anything else on the market. Wirelessly."

  "Wirelessly. Cool. My dad's always complaining about the wires."

  Big Bill had suffered from chronic lower back pain since his thirties, and had been using TENS units for years. It was the reason he had formed Smotherburn Technologies—to develop a better TENS unit—and make a fortune.

  "That's right."

  "So, that is a tiny computer chip inside."

  "Yes. And the user will recharge it each day by wearing a special charging cap that I'm developing."

  "Wow. That is cool." Wiley thought for a moment. "Could it be used for other stuff?"

  She hesitated. "What do you mean?"

  "You know. If you implanted a couple of those babies down below the belt," he said, pointing to his crotch, "could you make somebody go from frigid to red hot with the flip of a switch?"

  "Why do you have to be so crude? This device is for pain management. Like all of our other models."

  "But...could it be used for pleasure?"

  "Well, that's a good question."

  He smiled. "See. I have something to contribute. I make you think."

  "Sure. Very good. So, do you want to be my test subject?"

  "Uh..."

  "You'll need to strip down, and get up on that table," said Phillipa.

  "Naked?"

  "Yes, of course. Don't be embarrassed, Wiley. I'm a scientist. I'll cut two slits and insert the electrodes. Then we can test your theory."

  "You'd have to cut me?"

  "Yes, of course. How else can I insert the electrodes? They'll be tiny slits."

  "Where?"

  "Hmm. In the scrotum."

  "Whoa. Wait a minute."

  "But, I must warn you that I have no idea what will happen. Maybe nothing. You might not feel a thing. Or it could light you up like a Roman candle."

  He grinned. "Great Balls of Fire."

  "Literally."

  "Y
ou know what? I think I'll pass."

  "Goodnight, Wiley."

  He headed for the door. "See you tomorrow."

  "Be on time."

  "Right."

  CHAPTER 7 - Tuesday, 12:03 a.m.

  "Are you sure Joey won't recognize me? And what about the waitresses? And the maître d'?"

  "See for yourself." Gabby spun Rebecca around to see herself in the full-length mirror.

  "Who is that? I truly do not recognize myself."

  "So, you like?"

  "Well, sure. It's amazing how much different I look with curly hair. And it's been a long time since I've worn a skirt this short."

  "How about the makeup?"

  "It's way too heavy."

  "That's on purpose. The idea is that you're desperate to get noticed."

  "But I'm ten years older than Wiley. You really think he's going to believe I'm his age?"

  "Honey, looking like this, he's not gonna care how old you are. Are you kidding me?"

  "Thanks, Gabby. But I don't think he'll even notice me. Not in a roomful of bare boobs. How can I compete with that?"

  "Easily. They're exposed. Their stuff is in all in your face. You, on the other hand, are leaving something to the imagination. And the imagination is always better than the real thing. I ought to know. It's how I make my living."

  "Yeah, I guess so." Rebecca looked around at his beautiful designs all over the walls, thinking he could make any woman look beautiful.

  "Okay, we'd better get going. Wiley should be there soon. He usually strolls in between midnight and one."

  "But we still don't have a reservation. I hope your new buddy will let us in again."

  "You don't need reservations after midnight. They let everybody in."

  **********

  When they strolled into the lobby of Café Nue, Gabby spotted Wiley. He leaned over and whispered to Rebecca, "He's right over there. In the corner. See him?"

  Rebecca saw Wiley talking to Bobby Ballantini. It looked like a serious conversation.

  "I hate this place." Gabby spoke loud enough for everyone in the lobby to hear him, including Wiley.

  Rebecca looked surprised. And she wasn't acting. Gabby had gone off script again.

  "Let's get out of here." Gabby grabbed Rebecca's arm.

  Rebecca took the cue. "Get your hand off me before I break it off."

  Gabby threw both hands in the air. "Fine. You can catch a cab home, Bitch."

  Rebecca punched him in the face.

  He grabbed his jaw and began to rub it. "We're done, Slut! You hear me? Done!" He turned and stormed out.

  Rebecca hoped he was still acting. She had walloped him pretty good. She turned around and straightened her dress, attempting to regain her composure.

  Wiley walked over to her. "Are you okay, Miss?"

  "Yes, I'm fine. Thanks."

  "Good. But you've lost your escort. Could I buy you a drink?"

  "Oh, don't feel obligated just because my boyfriend's a jerk."

  "I don't. Not at all. But you can do better."

  "Thanks." Rebecca smiled. "Oh, sure, I'd love to have a drink with you."

  He looked at the hostess, "Is my table ready, Cindy?"

  "Always, Sir."

  Wiley winked at Rebecca. The hostess led them into the restaurant and over to Wiley's table in the center of the room.

  He ordered two glasses of expensive wine. Rebecca didn't like wine. It was just as well, since she had no intention of consuming any more alcohol tonight.

  "So, what's your name, Honey?"

  Rebecca went blank. What had she planned to call herself? She blurted out, "Julie."

  "Julie what?"

  "Jones. Julie Jones."

  "That's okay. You don't have to tell me your real name."

  "That is my real name."

  "Okay. Sorry. It sounds fake. I'm sure you get that a lot."

  She smiled and nodded.

  "Well, my name is Wiley Smotherburn. Of course, you probably already knew who I was."

  "Glad to meet you Wiley." She extended her hand. He took it in both of his hands and rubbed it gently. "Soft skin."

  Rebecca nearly laughed out loud. Her hands were not soft. He must have already had a drink or two, she thought. The alcohol was deadening his sense of touch. She could only imagine how that would affect him in the bedroom. Although it didn't matter, since she would not be joining him in any bedrooms. "Thanks." She withdrew her hand.

  "Yeah, my dad owns this place." He looked around. "It'll be mine one day soon."

  Not if Joey Ketrousie had his way, thought Rebecca. Obviously, Wiley didn't know his father was dead.

  "And I'm going to make some changes. Big changes."

  "Like what? Do away with the nudity?"

  "Hell, no. I want even more nudity. If topless can bring in this kind of business, imagine what total nudity would do."

  Rebecca looked around at the waitresses. She could barely stand to eat in this room as it was. Total nudity? Barf.

  "And I'll add a cover charge. Thirty bucks to get in the door."

  The waitress brought the wine bottle and filled their glasses.

  Wiley gulped his down immediately and motioned for the waitress to refill it.

  Rebecca pretended to take a sip of hers.

  "Are you hungry?" He sucked down his second glass of wine.

  "No, not really."

  He put his hand on her arm and leaned in. "Want to go to my place? I just bought a house." He grinned.

  "Uh, sure."

  He staggered out of the restaurant, hanging onto her for support. Rebecca decided he must have already had several drinks before she got there. "I'll drive."

  "What? No, I'm fine."

  "I'm not going with you unless you let me drive."

  "Oh, alright." He took the keys out of his pocket and handed them to her.

  His address was programmed into his car's GPS system. It was a good thing, since he was in no condition to give directions.

  "You're a very beautiful woman, Judy."

  "Julie."

  "Oh, yeah. Sorry, Julie. You're a very beautiful woman, Julie. Did anybody ever tell you that?"

  "A couple of times."

  "I love your long, long..." He seemed to get stuck on the word. "...long, long...legs...Julie." He reached over to put his hand on her right thigh.

  "Take it easy, Big Boy," she said. "I'm trying to drive."

  "Oh, sure. Sorry."

  "Are you and your dad close?"

  "Huh? Oh. Not really."

  "I mean, how often to you see him?"

  "Usually just at the office. Or sometimes at the café."

  "So, did you see him today? Or talk to him?"

  "Uh, yeah, I think so. Yeah, I saw him at the office today."

  Rebecca drove in silence.

  "Why do you ask, Julie? Are you looking for a job? Do you want me to put in a word for you with my dad?"

  "Yeah. Maybe." She pulled into the driveway, as instructed by the woman's voice in the GPS. "Well, here we are."

  Rebecca helped Wiley make it up the steps and into the house. "This is a nice place you've got." She was surprised at how neat it looked.

  "Thanks." Wiley plopped down on the couch.

  Rebecca noticed the pictures on the mantle. "Is this your dad?"

  "Yeah." He got up and joined her. "And that's my stepmother, Kimberly." He stepped in close to the picture, his nose two inches from the glass. "Die, Bitch!"

  "So, you and your stepmom don't get along."

  "You could say that." Wiley was beginning to sway.

  Rebecca took his arm. "Maybe you'd better sit back down." She led him to the couch.

  He fell onto the couch, pulling Rebecca down with him.

  "I think you've had way too much to drink."

  He had already passed out.

  "Maybe I'd better go."

  He began to snore.

  She took a few seconds to look around the house, but didn't see anyt
hing of interest. So, she walked outside and called for a cab. She was gone within ten minutes.

  **********

  Once the cab had driven away, Wiley stood up and took out his phone.

  "Hey. We may have trouble. Rebecca Ranghorn showed up at the club...I don't know. I did my drunk act...yeah...totally fooled her...no, don't worry...I've got it under control."

  CHAPTER 8 - Tuesday, 1:16 a.m.

  Rebecca paid the cabbie and got out. As she walked to the front door, she saw Gabby unlocking it from the inside.

  She heard something whizz by her head. Then a pop. In the split second it took for her to realize somebody was shooting at her, another bullet hit the doorframe.

  Gabby opened the door and Rebecca ran inside. As he closed and locked the door, the window shattered.

  They ran for the back stairs, and flew up to the third floor.

  "What the hell, Becca?"

  "Kill the lights."

  Gabby flipped the switch.

  "We pushed somebody's buttons," said Rebecca.

  "What did you tell Wiley?"

  "Nothing. And it couldn't be him. He was passed out on the couch."

  They heard more glass breaking downstairs.

  Rebecca crouched down and scurried to the front window.

  "Get back. They'll shoot you."

  "They can't see me in the dark."

  Gabby joined her at the window. "They're inside. See. They turned the lights on." The glow from the shop lit up the sidewalk and street, and began to flicker. "Wait—is that fire?"

  "I'm afraid so."

  "My beautiful dresses." He bolted for the stairs.

  "Gabby, stop. They may be waiting for us down there."

  He ran down the stairs anyway. Rebecca ran after him.

  By the time he reached the bottom of the stairwell it was filled with smoke.

  "It's too late." Rebecca grabbed his arm. "I'm sorry. We've got to go back up."

  When they were back on the third floor, Gabby took out his phone and called 911 to report the fire. When he had ended the call, he said, "Becca, we can't stay here. By the time the fire trucks come we'll be dead from the smoke. We've got to go up to the roof. We can go over to the next building and climb down the fire escape."

  "No. We can't go up there, Gabby. The shooter may be trying to smoke us out. He'll pick us off as soon as we step out the door."