by Sara York
If he were truthful with himself, he would admit Marissa had been chosen solely because she belonged to Tony. He should have made a better choice, someone who fit his targeted profile. It wasn’t wise to mix revenge with the plan. Work the plan, that’s what he had to do. He would find a new target, one who fit.
Chapter 23
Ally’s arms ached and her mind had gone numb a while ago. Four hours in the pool had only put a dent in the layers of old worries. She thought of Marissa and how she must feel with what she was going through with Tony. Ally understood desperation. She had lived it for years, never fitting in, not knowing how to live as a woman. She had been born with all the right equipment, but her father hadn’t wanted a girl. Anger rose but she pushed it aside. She needed to stop thinking about how her father had made her into a boy. She couldn’t be a man anymore, it was too dangerous. She did stupid things when she was a man.
Ally blushed in embarrassment. At one point she had believed she was gay, but she couldn’t get used to the idea of touching another woman. She had tried it, but always left the exchange unsatisfied. A penis is what she needed. A strong penis slamming into her, then she would feel better.
She didn’t like admitting she had bought one. No one knew about the harness she used to strap her piece on, pretending it was really hers. It felt good, powerful actually, to walk around with an erect penis in front of her. Then she’d found a flaccid replica she could strap on and wear under her clothes. She wore it around town sometimes, letting herself be what her father wanted, a man not a woman.
Still it hadn’t been enough. She wanted the thick feel of a man between her legs, sucking her breasts and rubbing against her flesh. Two nights ago she had gotten her wish. She was still sore from Michael pushing into her. God, it had felt so good.
That proved it. She wasn’t a man. She was a woman.
Michael had shown her how much of a woman she could be. His fingers had made her cry out, begging for all of him. Wave after wave of release had brought her closer to being a woman than she’d ever felt before. But now, two days later and no word from Michael had Ally hearing the old lies start to surface again.
Last night she had dreamt her dad was still alive. He was in her room, watching her in bed with Michael. He called her a fag, a damn homosexual for sleeping with a man. He picked up a horsewhip and laid it across her bottom. His words from when she was a child stung her, ‘You are not a little girl, you are a boy’ repeated over and over until she stopped calling herself a little girl. In her dream, Ally rose up to strike back at her father. She looked down and her breasts were gone. She had a penis hanging from her pelvis. She remembered crying in the dream. Her sobs woke her at six this morning.
She ran to the club, worked out and helped four clients, two of them new. Then she’d gone to the dressing room to change into her swimsuit. She hated having other women watch her undress. The feeling of strangers’ eyes on her bothered her. She’d been fired from a club up north when she had punched a woman for looking at her while she dressed.
Ally knew she had rage issues with other women. Sometimes she hated working so closely with them. She hated smelling their sweet bodies, feeling their weak arms as they tried to bench press fifty pounds. Maybe her father had been right to treat her like a man. Men were solid, strong, and emotionally together.
Being a man wasn’t tough. Ally thought about the feel of the fake penis hanging between her legs. She sighed, knowing she would slip the device on before she went to see Michael. Somehow, she would convince Michael he needed to see her. Or maybe she would show up on his doorstep, naked under a trench coat. She thought again about her tool, once she had it on, her hand would search for it. She would rub her palm over the piece, feeling its weight resting on her thigh. She thought about Michael plunging his thick shaft into her. Her knees went weak, and the tightness between her legs grew. She needed a release.
In the privacy of her own home, she could get that release. She would lie on her bed with the harness strapped on. She would rub her palm over the piece, feeling its weight resting on her thigh, then use her vibrating finger tab to orgasm. But when she came, it was never enough. Why couldn’t she see the evidence of her orgasm? She wanted to see cum shooting out of the end of her penis, but she didn’t really have a penis, and she wasn’t really a man.
It always came back to that. The vein at the base of her neck throbbed with pent-up anger. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t be the man her father always wanted her to be.
After running five miles to the natatorium, Ally had swum until she couldn’t pull her arms through the water. Now she hung on the side of the pool, unable to lift herself out.
She heard the click-click of shoes on the hard tile floor. Black shiny boots stopped in front of her. She rolled her head to the side and looked up. Michael smiled down at her. His face was a welcome reprieve from the torture that had worked through her brain all morning.
“I knew I would find you here.”
“Help me, I can’t get out.”
Michael reached down, crossed his arms, grabbing both of hers and pulled her up to sit on the side of the pool. She slumped over, holding onto the starting block for support.
“What happened to you? You run a marathon today?” Michael asked as he pushed a wet strand of hair out of her eyes.
“No, just worked out until I was exhausted.”
Michael knelt beside her, took her hand in his and kissed her palm. A shiver ran down her back and made her shake. He laughed and pulled her up to stand next to him. Ally’s legs gave way and she fell against him.
“How long you been swimming?”
“About three hours, maybe four.”
“I’m taking you home and giving you a full body massage.”
“Your place?” Ally asked, not wanting to be with Michael at her own house. A small part of her feared her father really would show up if she slept with Michael at her own house again. Some demons were harder to kill than others.
“Sure. I’ll draw you a hot bath and let you soak in the jacuzzi tub.”
Ally leaned on Michael all the way to the car. She fell into the seat and let him strap her in.
“What about your bag?”
“I didn’t have one, just my shoes, key and credit card.”
“You travel light.”
“I try. What are we having for dinner?” Ally asked, her eyes already closed and her head resting against the headrest.
“How about grilled chicken?”
“Sounds great, if I don’t fall asleep first.”
“If you fall asleep, I’ll save it until tomorrow.”
Ally mumbled. Her mind disconnected from her body and sleep came fast. She woke when Michael lifted her out of the car.
“I can walk.”
“I know, but I thought it would be nice to carry you.”
“Are you sure? I’m kind of heavy,” Ally said. At a hundred and forty pounds, she wasn’t a lightweight.
“You doubt my strength?”
“No, I’m just...”
Michael swung Ally’s feet to the floor and pushed his key into the lock. “Ally, you are the perfect size for me. I wouldn’t know what to do with a woman who was all willowy and spongy. I like the way your muscle’s bulge out, giving definition where most women are soft.”
Ally giggled and blushed. Maybe there was hope for her. Her father had been wrong. She wasn’t a man. The strong tightening between her legs reminded her she really was all woman. It just took a big, muscle bound man to prove it. Ally relaxed against Michael and let him carry her to the couch. She lay back against the cushions, her muscles screaming for release and comfort. She’d pushed herself too hard today. Tomorrow she would pay for it. In all likelihood she would drop three to five of the pounds she had worked hard to obtain.
The sound of running water pulled Ally from her musings. He was running a bath for her. That was a first. She’d never had anyone fill a tub with warm water for her to enjoy. She si
ghed and sunk down further into the couch.
“What are you smiling at?” Michael asked when he walked back into the den.
“I’m happy. Just happy, that’s all.”
“Good, now get up and walk into the bathroom. Your muscles need to be stretched. I’m going to get something to eat, then it’s off to bed for you.”
“Thanks,” Ally said as she wobbled to her feet.
Her legs and arms ached but the warm salted bath water felt wonderful. She relaxed her head against the built in pillow and fell asleep. She woke just enough to be aware of Michael pulling her out of the tub and putting her to bed.
It seemed like only moments later that she rolled over and saw sun streaming in behind the curtains.
“Michael,” Ally called out. No answer, he was gone. Disappointment skirted her thoughts. She reached a hand over to his side of the bed and found it cold. How long had he been gone? Or had he even slept with her?
She rose to stand and pain shot down legs and her knees knocked together. She stretched out her muscles and saw a note next to the alarm clock. It was almost nine. Ally stumbled to the phone across the room and dialed the club.
“Rickey here.”
“Hey, Rickey, this is Ally. What time is my first appointment?”
“Your boyfriend called and said you were sick today. We called all of your clients and canceled. You only had two and none of them were new. They understood and rescheduled for tomorrow. By the way, you’re booked solid from morning until night with only a few hours break before noon. I hope you’re better by then.”
“I will be, don’t worry.”
Ally flopped down onto the bed and smiled. Michael considered her his girlfriend. She smiled, grabbed the TV remote and flipped it on to the news.
“Yesterday morning, a dancer at the club, Diamonds ‘N Rubies, was found murdered in her own home. Police believe this senseless killing was at the hands of one of the club’s patrons.”
Ally flipped off the set. They’d found another dead girl. She clenched her fists. She couldn’t think straight. She didn’t want to hear about more dead girls. She wanted it all to go away.
Ally hung out at Michael’s after a quick trip to take care of some business. No word from Michael had drained some of the euphoria she felt earlier. His note said he would call at around noon, but she had to step out and must have missed him. She tore off a bite of her sandwich and chewed slowly. Maybe if she were different he would call.
Chapter 24
Tony and Marissa sat around a box of fried chicken. His diet would have to change soon. Junk food felt good going down, but his waist wouldn’t be able to take it for long. His pants were still loose around his stomach, but soon the tell-tale signs of overeating would catch up to him.
Rex had left Tony another report, this one showing the approximate time of death for each victim. Tony picked it up at the front desk, along with another memo from Jackson Spade. He was to call Spade in the in the morning.
“So, Angela Longfellow died on or before the morning of the fourth. Then Kelsey was murdered on July fifth in the evening.” Marissa swallowed hard, keeping her eyes on the food in the box. “There were two days it looks like the killer was inactive. Then he murders Arisa Fink, but she isn’t found until the twelfth.” Marissa stopped and grabbed another piece of chicken.
Tony thought she looked like she was in heaven. He remembered how much she liked eating when she was pregnant with Ashley. “Ms. Fink’s lifestyle and her location kept her from being found earlier. Latisha Enzer ends up in my bed. I wake up on the ninth and she’s there. Then on the eleventh, he goes after you. That means he was active on the fourth, the fifth, the eighth, the ninth, and again on the eleventh when he attacked you,” Tony said as he reached for more food, trying to keep up with Marissa.
“He seems erratic. If there were a pattern, the police should find another body. But maybe there hasn’t been enough time. What if he kills two days in a row then takes a two day break?” Marissa said, wiping grease from her lips. Tony breathed in deeply as tightness filled his groin. Watching Marissa eat was almost erotic.
“He only took one day between Latisha Enzer and you.” Tony interjected, his mouth full of chicken. Marissa gave him a stern look, she didn’t believe in talking with your mouth full.
“That disproves my theory. What if it’s a different algorithm? Two on, two off, then two on, one off. Next would be two off.”
“You and your math.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard algorithm used in a police investigation, but you’re doing great. Thanks for helping me. I know it’s not your thing.”
“I want to help. I can’t stand doing nothing.”
Tony swallowed over the lump in his throat. He loved his wife more than he thought possible. “Your theory makes sense, but maybe his pattern isn’t based on the date but something else. Maybe it’s based on when the victims are alone?” Tony wiped his mouth. He was done with food for now, the longer they talked the less he wanted to eat.
“You’re probably right. If he’s cleaning up after he does the deed, then he needs an hour or two for cleaning. The victim has to be alone for the night.” Marissa took another bite of chicken.
“That helps us a bit, but what about you?”
“He thought I would be alone. You only recently started showing up at my apartment and not on a regular basis.”
“He’s watching his victims, looking for patterns, finding a way to get them when they’re alone. He’s not done yet, and we have no clue who this guy is.”
“Maybe Rex and his team are having better luck,” Marissa said.
“I’m going to go take a shower, and then I suggest we get to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a rough day.”
“Why do you say that?” Marissa asked.
“I’m going to ask for my job back.” Tony shut the door to the bathroom and rested against the cool wood. Randall might not see things the way Tony saw them, but putting Tony back on the force would only help the police department. Unless Randall actually thought Tony could have killed the Enzer girl.
The hot water ran over his shoulders, loosening them up. The stress from this case had wound his body tight. He stretched each muscle group while the water pounded down on him. His mind came up with nothing while he was in the shower. Marissa was at risk, he was at risk, and at least two more women in the city were at risk.
Tony toweled off and dressed before leaving the bathroom. He expected to find Marissa asleep, but she was sitting at the desk studying the list of victim’s names.
“This is strange,” Marissa said, pointing to the sheet of paper.
“What?” Tony came up behind her and reached out to touch her. He wanted to pull her into his arms, but he hesitated. Too much had gone on between them. He knelt down beside Marissa and looked over her shoulder.
“The names.”
“What about them?”
“I’ve listed them in the order they were killed.”
Tony read the paper where Marissa had neatly written the women’s names in a column.
“See, Longfellow, Ingles, Fink, Enzer, Santos,” Marissa said.
A lump formed in Tony’s throat when he saw ‘Santos’ on the list. He had almost failed his wife, like he was failing the entire community.
“Do you see it?” Marisa's eyes were bright with excitement.
“No, I don’t--wait, I think I do.” Tony grabbed a clean sheet of paper and spelled out ‘lifes’. The first letter of each girl’s last name.
“Lifes what? What is this guy trying to say?” Marissa moved from one end of the small room to the other. Her delicate scent toyed with Tony each time she passed.
“Life’s a bitch?”
“God I hope not. That’s seven more deaths.”
“Life’s hard?” Marissa offered.
“It’s most likely something catchy, something that’s said frequently. Someone said a similar phrase to me the
other day. What was it?” Tony paced around the small room, his path blocked by the bed, a dresser, and the walls. He grunted in disgust. He needed to be back on the force working this case as a detective, not holed up in some tiny room trying to piece together a puzzle without all the information he needed.
“Tony, it’s ‘life sucks’. But does he spell the word s-u-x or s-u-c-k-s?”
“How do you know that?”
“He said that as he tied me up.”
Tony stopped moving. His life with Marissa flashed before his eyes. He had to push the fear of losing her away. He’d screwed up in their marriage. He’d do everything he could to recover from that, but death was final. Had he not been there...
“So who’s next?” Tony asked, dread working its way into his voice. He had traded Marissa’s life for someone else’s. He mentally ticked off a list of his friends and acquaintances. Sekorski’s last name began with an ‘S’. Did he have any children, a wife? Tony didn’t know. He flipped open his cell phone and dialed Sekorski’s cell number.
“Sekorski here.”
“Henry, do you have a daughter or wife?” Tony asked, not wasting time with an introduction.
“Tony, is that you?”
“Yes, listen. This guy is going after someone whose last name begins with an ‘S’.”
“What do you mean?”
“The last names. I think he’s telling us something with the last names.”
“My wife is here with me and my daughter is away at college.”
“How close is she?” Tony questioned, praying Sekorski had the resources to keep his wife and daughter safe.
“My daughter? She’s in New York City.”
“Henry, call her and tell her not to be alone. Give her as many details about this case as you feel comfortable with, but make sure she’s not alone. And don’t let your wife stay alone either. We took away his ‘S’ and now he’s having to search.”
“His ‘S’? How do you know it’s an ‘S’?”