“Bitch,” he snarled. “I’ll get you for that.”
Lee crawled toward her on his hands and knees. Frantically she reached beside the bed, grabbing the first thing her fingers came into contact with. In her hand was a phone. She swung with all her might and he went down. She kicked out viciously, pummeling him as hard as she could until at last his body slumped off the bed. A resounding smack was audible as his body made contact with something solid.
Heart pounding like an electric drill, Barbara leaned across the bed.
Lee was lying in a twisted position, head bleeding from the fall against the night table, and between his legs something hard and sharp stuck up. It took her half a second before she realized it was her spike heel caught between his thighs. She hoped it had pierced something vital and that he’d never be able to get it up again. Serve the bastard right.
She was shaking uncontrollably from shock, fear, and outrage, but she had to find out if he was still alive. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to be, because if he was she just might have to kill him.
Still clutching the phone like a weapon, she nudged him with it. He didn’t stir.
“Okay, bozo. Listen up. I’ll give you ten seconds to get your ass off the floor and outta here, or I’m calling the cops.”
He didn’t answer. With a growing sense of alarm she swung her legs about and kicked him a little more gently. Nothing. Nada.
Barbara watched his chest for the symbolic rise and fall that would indicate life. Didn’t see any. Mother of God! What if she’d killed him?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Maddi was working on a class assignment when her phone rang. She picked up with a sense of relief. Tired from working, she hoped it was one of the girls, or a friend so they could yak for an hour.
“Maddi?” Barbara’s voice broke. “I need you.”
“Barbara? What’s wrong?” Maddi shouted.
She heard a sniffle.
“What is it, honey?” Maddi could feel panic rising in her own stomach. This was so unlike Barbara. She was the strong one; big and tough, and didn’t put up with crap. She never cried.
“Are you at home?” she whispered. “Did you have a fight with Bill? Look, if it’ll help, I’ll come over right now.”
“You have to come.” Barbara forced the words from her throat. “You have to come.”
“I will. I’ll be there right away.”
“I’m in New York, near Washington Square. Let me get the exact address, okay?” She came back on the line a minute later. “It’s close to Broadway. The exact address is 1627 East Third. It’s a dingy little hotel, and I don’t have time to explain, but I’m in room 202. I might have killed somebody.”
Maddi stopped her scribbling, and shrieked, “What do you mean? Killed who?”
“Whom,” Barbara corrected automatically. “Killed whom.”
Maddi cursed, then took a deep breath. “You aren’t talking like a sane person right now, Barbara. Tell me you didn’t kill somebody, and I don’t give a rat’s ass if it’s a who or a whom.”
“I’m afraid to look. Get here fast. Please?”
“Hang tight. I’ll be there in less than an hour. I’m on my way, kid.”
“Thanks. And Maddi, if Bill calls, don’t tell him anything, whatever you do. He mustn’t know.”
Maddi grabbed her fur coat. New York was having a cold spell, and after Barbara’s call she was feeling like a chip of ice both inside and out.
It was after nine P.M. The traffic was light, so she made good time. She sprinted through the shabby lobby past the sleeping clerk, and took the stairs to the second floor. The moment she pounded on the door of room 202, it opened and Barbara crumpled in her arms. She wore a rumpled black dress, no hose or shoes. Her eyes were red and puffy, her face stark white, streaked with tears.
Maddi cradled her in her arms, and made soothing sounds as she would to a child. She shut the door, and drew Barbara back into the room. A strange man lay slumped on the floor. Oh, my God. What had she done?
“It’s okay. You can tell me anything and I’ll try to understand.”
Barbara’s breath hitched in a sob. “Oh, Maddi, I know how it looks. But I was drugged, tricked. I didn’t come here of my own free will. I didn’t, you have to believe me.”
“Of course I believe you. I know you’d never do something like this.” Maddi looked around at the grimy walls with peeling wall-paper, the disgusting stained carpet that told its own sad story, and the filthy, faded comforter on the saggy double bed, and couldn’t suppress a shudder. “Of course you wouldn’t come to a place like this,” she assured her, stroking her unruly hair back from her face. “You wouldn’t know such a place exists.”
Barbara gulped back tears and sucked in air, before speaking. “I was with Bill at the Waldorf-Astoria for that medical conference, and you know how he’s always late. Well, I got a message saying he was delayed, so I went downstairs to the bar.”
Maddi rubbed her back, and made clucking sounds like a mother hen.
“He bought me a drink.” She pointed to the man on the floor. “I shouldn’t have let him, because I saw him behave like a jerk. But that’s another story.” Dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, she smeared mascara with every angry swipe.
“You can tell me about it after we call the police.” She picked up the phone.
“No.” Barbara cried. “We can’t report this. Nobody must know. What if Bill finds out, or the boys?”
“Sweetie, if you don’t report it, whatever the scumbag did to you, he’ll probably do to others.”
“I know, but I can’t worry about anyone else. I can’t!” Her voice broke.
Maddi put her arms around her friend. “You’re a victim, Barb.” She repeated firmly, “A victim. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Then she added gently, “Tell me what happened and we’ll figure something out.”
“I don’t know. I remember going out to make a phone call, and then boom. It hit me all at once. I had trouble forming my words and trying to walk. He must have drugged me. That’s the only explanation.”
“We need to call the police.”
“No. We’re not doing that.” Barbara took a sip of water from a dingy glass. “I’m sure I wasn’t raped. He was working up to that when I came around.” Her voice grew heated. “I wonder what it was. That date-rape drug? Roofers, or reefers, or some name like that.”
“Roofies,” Maddi said. “I warned the girls about them when they started to date. But it doesn’t matter what he used. He needs to be locked up.” She gave him a kick, then remembered that he might be dead. “Have you checked to see if he’s breathing?”
“No. I waited for you.”
Together they peered closer. Maddi whispered, “If I get the hand mirror out of my purse we can put it under his nose and see if it fogs. Then we don’t have to touch him.” She shivered. “If he’s not dead, perhaps we could just stick a pillow over his head and hope for the best.”
Barbara half snorted, half laughed. “Can’t we just leave him?”
“Let’s see if he’s alive first.” Maddi did the mirror test, and they both saw it cloud over. “Well, the good news and the bad, is that he’s not dead. Yet.”
“Okay, can we leave now?” Barb asked.
Maddi leaned down for a closer look. “He banged his head pretty good. Might need medical treatment.”
They both looked at him, and then each other. Barbara shook her head. “I’m not about to call Bill, if that’s what you think. The guy tried to get his tongue in me. He’s lucky I don’t cut it off.”
Maddi made a face. “The pig. Maybe we should do a little Bobbitt procedure. What do you think?”
Barbara ran to her purse and took out a small tube of superglue. “How about this? We could seal it up for good.”
Maddi grabbed the tube. “Why are you carrying this?”
“One of the straps on my shoes came loose, so I picked it up at the last moment and did a minor repair. Never dreamed it would
have other uses.”
Maddi grinned. “Well, it does now.
“Are you really going to use it? And where?”
“You bet I am. We should squirt a little on the end of his prick. That would shut it down for a while. Unzip him, Barbara, and pull it out so I can squeeze some on. Unless you want the honor?”
“No. I’m not going anywhere near it, thank you. I wouldn’t touch him if you paid me.”
Maddi shrugged. “Okay, how about his tongue?”
“I don’t ever want to see that tongue again.” Then she changed her mind. “On the other hand, that tongue of his definitely has it coming. Here, give me that thing.”
She squeezed a tiny amount of glue between his lips and then smacked them shut. “There. Guess he won’t be talking to the police, or anyone else, for a while. And he won’t be feeding gullible women any more lines, either.”
Barbara used two fingers to delicately retrieve the high-heeled shoe caught between his crotch, slipped her foot into it, and gave him another kick in the shins before she turned to leave.
Maddi glanced back when she got to the door, and elbowed Barbara. Lee’s eyes were open, his hands frantically scratching at the air like a loony attempting to catch dust bunnies.
They walked out.
The two of them were in the Mercedes heading home when Maddi’s cell phone went off. During the drive they had fabricated a story to tell Bill that would be part fiction, part fact. When Maddi reached for the phone, Barbara put her hand over hers. “Don’t answer it. It’ll be him.”
“I have to answer it and let him know you’re here with me. He has to know that you’re safe and unharmed. The poor man will be frantic. I hope he hasn’t already called the police.”
“Just wait until we get home. Call him from your house phone. Please?”
Maddi yanked the phone away from Barbara and spoke into it, ignoring the pleading looks from her friend. “Bill, yes, she’s fine. No, she won’t speak to you, but don’t worry. She’s safe, and with me. She’s very upset right now and needs some space. No, I don’t know what the hell that’s supposed to mean. All I know is that she called me and asked if I’d pick her up. So I did. Look, Bill, leave it for now. I’ll have her call you in the morning. Yeah, I’m sorry, too. But, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll both work it out.”
“There.” Maddi spoke brightly. “Now don’t you feel better? He knows you’re with me and that he doesn’t need to worry about you. He also knows that you’re upset over the fact that he was late. Now he can sit in his suite all night and feel guilty and brood. Isn’t that basically what you wanted anyway? For him to finally sit up and take notice? You’ve got his full attention now, girl.”
Barbara nodded, but didn’t speak. A silent tear dripped down her cheek as she stared out the window.
“Hey, girlfriend,” Maddi said cheerfully. “We’re gonna have a sleepover with lots of good wine or cheap tequila, take your pick. Tomorrow you can decide what and how much you want to tell Bill. Whatever you decide, your secret is safe with me.”
“I know. How can I ever thank you, Maddi, for coming to my rescue once again?” Her voice cracked. “What is it about me? Do I have a big V for victim tattooed on my forehead?”
“Oh, Barb, hardly. This was just plain bad luck. It could have happened to anyone.”
“These things don’t happen to you.” She added sadly, “I was nineteen when I was raped by that “football hero” after a college game. Nobody believed me but you.”
“I remember. Boy, do I remember. I went to your school and raised such a fuss they had to take the allegations seriously.”
“I’d never have gotten through that horrible semester if it weren’t for you.” Barb tried to smile, and it was a painful effort. “I won’t ever forget it, and I know I don’t deserve it. I’m scum.”
Now that ticked Maddi off. She wasn’t going to let her friend bad-mouth herself. “You did nothing to deserve either attack. This bastard drugged you. He tried to rape you. You are an innocent victim, not some goofy dame looking for a cheap thrill. And don’t you ever forget it.”
More tears welled in Barbara’s red-rimmed eyes. When she tried to hold them back the pressure built inside of her like a dam ready to burst, erupting in a wail. Maddi pulled off the road and held her through the storm. “Let go, let it out. And then I want you to dry your tears and not cry about this anymore. Promise me, you won’t cry anymore.”
Maddi buried her own salty tears in Barbara’s thick mane of hair, then used some tissues to swipe at her own runny nose, and mop up Barbara’s face. They held on tightly, sobbing and crying, even giggling now and then, until there were no more tears.
With a deep sigh, Maddi gasped. “That was a good crying jag. I feel much better, how about you?”
Barbara sniffled in answer.
“Did you see his face when we left? His eyes were bugged out, and he couldn’t say a word. He had his hand on his mouth, trying to pry it open.”
“Do you think we’ll get jail time for what we did?” Barbara asked softly.
“Hell no. He won’t talk even if he could. What he did to you was the crime. Besides, who’d believe him over us?”
“I’d hate going to jail. Unless we could be cellmates, of course.”
Maddi nodded solemnly. “Yeah. Me too.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Barbara left Maddi’s the following morning, returning home only long enough to pack some belongings and tell Bill that she needed a break. She’d told him she wanted a trial separation, and that she wasn’t willing to discuss their marital problems. All she wanted was to be left alone.
Maddi took her in, without questions. She was just there, a friend who didn’t pass judgment, and kept her opinions to herself. Barbara knew the door was open to her as long as it was needed.
The two women searched the papers every day after the hotel incident. A snippet on the first day mentioned that a mute man had been found battered in a hotel room.
Barbara had taken the high resolution camera, but she hadn’t searched his pockets. In her panicked state, she hadn’t remembered his phone. In all probability, he’d also used that to take naked pictures of her. Lee could still blackmail her, and ruin her life.
When Barbara refused to go to the police and tell her story, Maddi remembered Jan Turner.
“She’s the police officer I told you about. The nice lady who came to the house when David charged me with breaking and entering. Remember?”
Barb did remember, but she couldn’t see how this would help her situation. Jan Turner was still the police.
“Look, she was totally sympathetic to me, and I really think we can trust her. How about if I give her a call, and just run the story by her. See what she says?”
“I don’t know.” Barbara chewed on it for awhile. “Okay. I guess it can’t hurt. Just don’t give her my name, okay?”
“Of course not, silly. But she’ll want to help. Catching the bad guys is her job.”
“Okay. Call, but I want to listen in.”
“No problem. Just grab one of the mobile phones.” Maddi called the precinct and was put on hold. When Jan came on the line, Maddi gave her a brief summary of the situation. As expected, Jan asked that her friend come to the precinct, and make an official report.
“She won’t do that. She wants to keep it quiet, and is hoping that this nightmare will simply go away.”
“I understand,” Jan replied. “Well, if she won’t come to me, I’ll have to go to her. Can you set up a meeting at a place where she’ll be comfortable?”
“I can, and I will. Thank you.” Maddi glanced over at Barbara, and winked. “We have another slight problem. She kicked his butt pretty good, and is now worried that the police might be looking for a woman of her description.”
“What condition did she leave him in? One piece?”
“Yes, but I think his lips had a collision with a tube of Crazy Glue.”
Jan Turner laughed heartily. “Ye
s, I’d definitely like to meet this woman.”
* * *
The meeting took place the following week. They sat in a corner booth at a popular martini bar, where women enjoyed happy hour two-for-ones, and men came to check out the ladies.
Maddi watched the flirtations going on at the bar, while Barbara was deep in conversation with Officer Jan Turner. Growing bored with watching the mating game, she turned her attention back to her friends.
Barbara—always beautiful, always perfectly groomed—looked like a train wreck. Her thick dark hair was pulled back into some kind of messy knot, and even her make-up couldn’t hide dark circles beneath her lovely eyes.
Jan was prepping Barbara. “If this Lee character contacts you about the pictures, we’ve got him. Blackmail’s a federal offense.” She tossed back her drink as though it were fruit punch. “You call me right away if you hear from him, and whatever you do, don’t give him any money. No money. Not now. Not ever.”
Barbara nodded, and asked in a subdued voice, “Do you think we can keep this between us? I’d die if my husband finds out. And my boys. Oh, God, what would they think?”
“You won’t die.” Jan’s big brown eyes held compassion as they locked with Barbara’s. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep it confidential, although in my opinion you should tell your husband, so he can help you through this.”
“That’s all I’ve thought about for a week now. But Bill would never understand why I agreed to have a drink with a stranger, or how I allowed myself to get into such a predicament.” Her hand shook as she reached for her martini glass. “He couldn’t possibly forgive me for this, and I can’t blame him.”
“Would you stop with this nonsense, girl?” Jan smacked the table with the palm of her hand. “You are the victim here. The guy did these things to you. You did not ask to be drugged and nearly raped, and tied up in some sleazy hotel.”
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