“But I've already done that."
“Just in the restaurants. Not everybody eats out."
“I thought maybe you'd want me to help with things at the food mart."
“You thought wrong,” he said as he drained his coffee mug.
“Have you decided how you are going to explain me today? Many of your customers will be bargain hunters from Charlotte, but there'll be people from Dot here also."
He smiled. “We're lovers, Teach. If anyone is curious, that's what we'll tell them. You love me and are trying to help me get on my feet after my parents sold the grocery store out from under me."
“People ... people will talk."
He grinned. “I know,” he said as he pinched her nipple painfully through the thin cloth. “Everybody knows I'm Dot's bad boy. Hell, Teach, the rumor is I've screwed half the women in this town—wives included."
“Is ... is the rumor true?"
He chuckled. “Not by a long shot and I've never touched another man's wife. If you tell anyone, I'll fry your clit with the prod."
“Promises, promises."
He watched her carry the empty dishes out of the room and finished dressing. Not yet seven, he thought and he lay down on the bed. A thirty-minute nap won't hurt.
“Buzz, wake up!” she demanded, shaking him roughly. “You have customers."
“Must have dozed off,” he said guiltily. He checked his watch. “It's only seven forty-five. The yard sale begins at nine."
“There are four people here already, Buzz, with money in their pockets. You want me to send them away?"
“Shit,” he said as he sat up. “I need to shave and comb my hair. You see what you can do with them ‘till I get there."
Wave after wave of people, driving trucks and vans, kept coming until nine o'clock. They were dealers, looking for bargains to resell at flea markets. Then the regulars—run of the mill bargain hunters—began to arrive.
Deborah descended the basement steps and whispered, “Buzz, I made you a couple of ham sandwiches. Take a break and eat something."
“I'm starved,” he agreed.
She grabbed him by the belt as he started for the stairs. “Thanks, Buzz."
“For what?"
“For letting me help with the sale."
“I didn't have much choice. Who would have thought so many people would show up? They're even buying mama's old clothes."
She waited until he disappeared through the door at the top of the stairs, picked up the moneybox and slipped into the furnace room, closing the door behind her. She got on her knees and reached behind the furnace. Her searching fingers found the bag of money in small bills she hid there when she arrived that morning. Still on her knees, she added six thousand dollars to the box.
“That's one hell of a view,” the male voice behind her said.
She scrambled to her feet and stared at the greasy looking man, dressed in an expensive business suit.
“I'm a collector, and it looks like I've struck gold this afternoon,” he said. “Your price on the Hot Wheels,” he continued, looking at a small notepad, “is three thousand and on the baseball cards it's ten thousand. You priced the Playboys and Hustlers at one thousand each for a total of fifteen thousand dollars. I'll give you eight thousand for the lot."
She shook her head. “If you really are a collector, you know our prices are fair. Professionals appraised everything. Are you ... do you collect pornography?"
He smiled. “Today's porn is tomorrow's art."
“Then you may be interested in the contents of those three cartons,” she said, pointing.
He knelt beside the cartons and opened the first box. “Hot damn—Slut! These things are hard to come by."
“There is a ten year collection, beginning with the first issue."
“Complete?"
“Almost. There are four issues missing."
“How much?"
She gulped. “Five thousand—cash. We don't take checks or credit cards."
He stood and looked at her. “Ten thousand for the lot."
“Twenty thousand,” she replied coldly. “Cash!"
“Fifteen, and that's my final offer."
“Twenty—cash."
He walked to the door, closed it and searched for a nonexistent lock. He turned and looked at her wickedly. “I'll give you twenty thousand on two conditions. First, you accept a deposit of five thousand. I live in Charlotte, but I can be back with the rest of the cash by five o'clock."
“Agreed."
“The more important condition is that you strip, get on your hands and knees like you were when I came in here, and give me the best fuck you ever gave in you life."
“In your dreams, asshole."
He grinned. “I'll compromise. On your knees and give me a good, deep throat blowjob."
“I'm not a whore, mister."
“Dressed like that? The hell you're not. One final offer—strip, let me feel you up and give me a big, wet kiss."
“And what will you give her in return?” Buzz asked.
The man spun around. “Hey, buddy, I don't want any trouble."
“He wants to buy the collectibles and me for twenty thousand,” Deborah explained.
“My girlfriend is not for sale, bastard,” Buzz said as he clinched his fists.
The man backed up with his hands raised, palms out. “You can't blame a guy for trying, buddy. Look, I do want the stuff. Like I told the lady, I can give you five thousand in cash now and have the rest to you by five o'clock."
“Let's see the color of your money."
* * * *
Deborah chewed the first bite of her T-bone and moaned as if she were in sexual ecstasy. “God, Buzz, it tastes so good."
“Your first real food in eight days. You've lost enough weight, Debbie. Eat what you like from now on, but if you start getting flabby again, we'll go back to dry toast and rabbit food."
“I thoroughly enjoyed helping with the sale today, but we don't have enough left to sell for you to need me tomorrow, Buzz. I'll start scraping the garage first thing in the morning. With any luck, I can have it ready to paint by the end of the day."
He shook his head and swallowed. “You go to church in the morning. We must keep up appearances.” He chuckled. “Did you see the expression on Leora Border's face when you told her you are my lover?"
Deborah nodded. “There were a ton of surprised looks, Buzz. Nobody knew how to react."
Buzz glanced around. “Everybody in the restaurant is looking at us. Word gets around quick."
She mumbled a reply as she chewed a bite of baked potato.
“What did you say?"
“I almost wish the rumor we started was true."
“Just remember that it's not,” he said. “We're going back to the pool tonight. If those kids are there again, you're going to take them to your house and give them a real show."
“I'll ... I'll do whatever you say, Buzz. I have no choice."
“You're damn right, you don't. You're getting off easy as it is. When you get back from church tomorrow, you will start on the garage. I think I'll make you work naked."
“Buzz!"
“Kidding—I think. I suppose you will have to work on the garage during the mornings and visit our neighbors during the afternoons until the garage is finished."
She looked at him a moment. “Buzz, you let those damn kids feel me up for free, but with twenty thousand dollars on the line, you wouldn't let the grease-ball touch me. I don't understand."
“Simple. You were a whore once, but I'm no pimp."
“I was a model and an actress,” she protested. “I ... I never did anybody for money."
“You were paid for Daisy Does Dixie, weren't you? At least twenty guys screwed you in that flick."
“That was different."
“I don't see any difference, Teach."
“Buzz,” she said as she cut another piece of steak. “About Monday. Could I ... no, you wouldn't want that."
/> “Want what?"
“Well, you had this yard sale to raise enough money to furnish your house. I think you already have more than enough."
He smiled and nodded. “I can hardly believe it—nearly thirty thousand dollars for all that junk. I think we have the price on the chiffonier too high, though. Several people were interested, but walked away when they saw the price tag."
“It's not too high, Buzz. If I were you, I wouldn't take a penny less than five thousand."
“I interrupted. You were about to make a suggestion about Monday."
She sipped her iced tea. “I could go to Charlotte Monday morning and pick out the furniture for you. I have good taste. We might even have it delivered Monday afternoon."
“I don't know,” he said. “I don't want any frilly, girly stuff."
“I promise you'll like what I select. If you don't..."
“If I don't, what?"
“You can use the cattle prod on me."
He grinned. “It's a deal, but damn it, you're not going to get out of painting my garage or visiting the homes of the good people in Dot."
She stopped herself from breathing an audible sigh of relief.
* * * *
Deborah pulled herself from the pool, adjusted the top of her bikini and sat at the end of his chaise lounge. She dried her hair with a towel and said, “Buzz, I'm exhausted from swimming laps. It's getting late. The kids from Charlotte are not going to show up."
“Yeah,” he agreed. “There's nobody here but Frank and June and the lifeguard has started putting things away. May as well call it a night."
“You're disappointed, aren't you?"
“Yeah. I enjoyed watching those kids feel you up. The lifeguard liked it too."
“He was watching?"
“He didn't take his eyes off you the whole time. Hell, that's the ticket. See if he is interested in getting in the pool with you tonight. Frank and June are leaving,” he said as he nodded towards them. “It's just me, you and the lifeguard—and be sure you put on a damn good show for me."
“Buzz, please."
“Do it, Teach,” he commanded.
Buzz watched her approach the youth as he fiddled with a filter. In five minutes, she was back.
“He was watching all right,” she laughed, “but not me."
“The boys?” he asked incredulously.
She nodded as she pulled on a long shirt. “He's gay. Let's go to my house. I'll give you a private show."
He stood and shook his head negatively. “It's not the same,” he said.
“They need to put lights in this parking lot,” he complained as they walked towards the Mercedes.
A flash of light startled them and they both looked towards to entrance to the lot.
“A van load of kids,” she said. “I wonder if the lifeguard will let them in?"
He grabbed her arm as the van turned and headed slowly towards them. “I don't think they're interested in swimming,” he chuckled.
“Hey, man,” the driver said as he eased the van beside them. “Remember me?"
“Sure,” Buzz said. “Brought some friends with you this time, I see."
“Buzz, please,” Deborah whispered. “There's too many of them. You can't control them."
“Yeah,” the driver said. “Our buddies didn't believe us. Are we too late?"
“I'm afraid the pool is closed for the night. Maybe another time,” Buzz said.
Moans, groans and profanity came from the van.
Buzz pulled Deborah in front of him. “Maybe a little show with convince your friends you weren't lying,” Buzz said as he pulled off Deborah's shirt.
The van leaned as all aboard crowded to get a better view.
Buzz unhooked the top of the bikini and let if fall to the ground. “Is this what you came to see?” he laughed as he reached around and squeezed Deborah's breasts, forcing the nipples to pop out.
“It's too damn dark,” a voice complained. “I can't see nothing. Make her stand in front of the headlights."
“Make her show us her pussy,” a high pitched voice said.
“Not tonight, guys,” Buzz said. “The show's over."
Groans came from the van. “We'll come earlier tomorrow night,” the driver promised.
“No more performances, guys. The little lady doesn't like it. Besides, there are too many of you."
“Five minutes, man,” the driver begged. “We'll just feel her up like the last time."
“Open the side door,” Frank grinned. He forced Deborah to the open door. “Take turns guys,” he said as a dozen hands reached for her breasts.
He did not stop them when they dragged her struggling body into the van. The light was dim, but he could imagine what they were doing to her. “Times up, guys,” he said. “Throw the bitch out now, or there will be no next time."
He caught her as the youths obeyed, preventing her from landing painfully on the asphalt.
Deborah scooped up the bikini top, hurried to the Mercedes and stared in disbelief as the van left the parking lot.
“They could have raped me and there wouldn't have been a damn thing you could do to stop them,” she said when Buzz joined her.
“They could have, but didn't. They're good kids, Debbie, just looking for a little excitement."
“You promised my punishment would not involve sexual abuse."
“Maybe I lied."
Chapter Eighteen
“What do you think of the new Debbie Andrews?” Borders asked as he sat at the Korner Kafe counter, sipping coffee.
Sewana chuckled as she polished silverware. “Looks like she's trying to be a teenager."
“She's about twenty years too late for that,” Leora observed.
“I don't know what to make of it myself,” Maggie said, “but I surely do like Debbie better than Deborah."
There was a general murmur of agreement among those gathered at the cafe counter for mid-morning coffee.
“At first,” Susan Kimel said, “I thought it was a political thing. I know Sandra Dollar talked with her about knocking off some rough edges. We all felt her holier-than-thou attitude might defeat the incorporation effort, but now I'm not so sure—the way she dresses is off the wall."
“What's wrong with the way she dresses?” Borders asked with a wry grin on his face. “I like it."
“Men!” Leora said, playfully threatening to slap her husband. “They're all alike."
“Hey,” he said defensively, “if the woman wants me to see her boobs and bottom, the least I can to is be appreciative."
Sewana laughed as she began refilling cups. “The first night she came in here dressed like that, she wasn't wearing panties. The way she bent over every table, it looked like she wanted show off her ... her..."
“Private parts?” Susan offered.
“Aw, come on, Sewana. She was wearing those thong panties I've seen advertised in some of the ladies clothing catalogues Leora gets,” Borders said. “Her most private part was covered."
“You old goat,” Leora hissed. “Checked it out closely, did you?"
“Now, Leora. I'm a cop—or I was. I'm trained to notice small details."
“She was at church yesterday,” Susan said, “wearing her old clothes, but she sure as hell wasn't wearing a bra. How she kept her silk blouse so tightly pressed to her chest is beyond me. Even the preacher was staring."
“I still say it's a tremendous improvement,” Maggie insisted. “With her change in attitude I feel much better about voting for incorporation."
“Maybe it's a political image she's trying to create,” Leora said. She grinned at Borders. “She's certainly won over the male vote."
“I don't know,” Susan offered. “I think she may have slipped a cog. I talked with Mary Lou about it. She says there's nothing she can do unless Deborah ... Debbie seeks her medical advice. I'm not sure I should tell this, but ... no, you wouldn't believe me."
“Go on, girl,” Sewana urged.
“Well,
I didn't get by Buzz Adam's yard sale Saturday. I heard there were some nice things at good prices. I also heard that a very scantily clad Debbie Andrews was helping with the sale. I decided to run by yesterday after lunch. He didn't have much left but an old chiffonier. So help me, he sold that thing for five thousand dollars to an antique dealer while I was standing there."
“Glad I don't collect antiques,” Leora said.
“Nice story, Susan, but what's that got to do with anything?” Borders asked.
“I was getting to it, Mr. Detective. Debbie was on a ladder scraping paint off Buzz's garage. The sweat was just pouring off her body. You know how hot it was yesterday."
“Humidity was way up there too,” Leora added.
“What was she wearing?” Borders asked.
“Men!” Leora said with mock disgust.
“She wore cutoff jeans that were way too tight and the skimpiest halter top I've ever seen. I don't know how she kept those things from bouncing out."
“Why in the world would she be doing all this work for Buzz?” Sewana asked.
Susan shook her head. “I know it was none of my business, but curiosity was killing me. After I looked at the few things Buzz still had for sale in his basement, I walked over to the garage. Debbie was pleasant enough, but she didn't even slow down. There were paint peelings all over her."
“And?” Leora urged her to continue.
“I just flat out asked her why she was doing so much hard work for Buzz Adams.” Susan sipped her coffee, relishing the moment.
“Damn it, woman,” Sewana said, “if you don't get to the punch line I'm going to pour that coffee all over you."
Susan laughed and lowered her voice just a little. “So help me God, she told me she and Buzz are lovers and she's doing what she can to help him get back on his feet after his parents sold the Dot Grocery out from under him."
“She said that?” Borders exclaimed.
Susan nodded.
Leora's eyes twinkled. “She told me the same thing Saturday."
Sewana touched Maggie's hand. “I'm sorry, honey."
Maggie jerked her hand away. “Hell, I just went out with him a couple of times. It was nothing serious. He's not my type. The hussy can have the jerk with my blessings."
Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows Page 44