by R Weir
“Any question they ask, clear it with Barry before answering,” I said to her.
“So, say nothing unless he gives me the OK?” she asked.
“Yes. Also wear a short skirt and revealing top, the sexier the better.”
“Will this help?” she asked.
“It won’t hurt,” I replied, before telling her when I’d be by to pick her up.
Calling Barry, I gave him the scoop of what I was steering him into, with every detail I could recall. He didn’t sound pleased, but didn’t back out on me either. I pissed away the rest of the morning relaxing my physical ache with an easy stride around the neighborhood before going to get Dona and taking her down to the station. We walked in and I knew my advice on her clothing choices had worked; everyone in the precinct watched her. Her short blue tight skirt covered her shapely rear end, her plunging sheer white blouse revealed her black bra, barely containing her chest. We were escorted back to interview room three, the politically correct name for the interrogation room, and sat on the plastic and metal-framed uncomfortable seats. The room was a deep dirty green in color, with a small table and six chairs and a large one-way mirror on the wall. There was a boom microphone hanging from the ceiling, with a recording management device on the table to stop and start the digital evidence equipment. Barry walked in about three minutes after we did, with Mallard and Detective Cummings showing up behind him, a thick folder in Mallard’s hands.
“Before we begin, can I get anyone anything to drink?” asked Mallard.
Dona wanted water, as did I. Cummings went to the door asking an officer standing outside to get five bottles of water. Once we all were equipped with our refreshments Mallard hit the record button.
“Miss Wiggins,” began Mallard. “We appreciate you coming down today. We want to make it clear you are not being charged with anything. We need to ask you some questions about the use of your vehicle in the death of Jack Tanner. Do you understand?”
Dona glanced at Barry and he nodded. She shook her head, understanding what he had told her.
“Do you own a dark blue 2008 Dodge Ram pickup?” he asked. He rattled off the plate number.
“No,” answered Dona.
“So you are saying it isn’t your truck?” he asked. “It’s registered in your name.”
“You asked if I owned it,” Dona replied. “I don’t own it because I didn’t pay for it. It’s only in my name. Rarely do I ever drive it.”
Mallard and Cummings looked at each other.
“Why is it in your name if you didn’t buy it?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him. Something to do with taxes or something similar I don’t understand.”
“So who bought it?”
Grabbing her bottle of water, Dona broke the seal and slowly sipped it. She checked again with Barry as he nodded.
“Roland.”
“Can you state his full name please for the record?”
“I don’t know his middle name, only his first and last.”
Mallard’s face was starting to change colors, the responses getting to him.
“Fine.”
“Roland Langer.”
“What is your connection to Roland Langer?”
“Employer. I also live at his house, though I’m not living there right now.”
“What type of work do you do for Roland?”
“Personal. I provide whatever services he needs, no matter how trivial.”
“Are you his servant?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
Mallard was getting madder. “In what manner?”
She looked again at Barry. This time he spoke for her. He had no notes, but his memory was incredible. I knew he remembered everything I told him about the case-names, places and situations. He was a talented lawyer.
“She is indentured to provide sexual favors for her boss in exchange for room and board.”
“She is his whore. His sex slave, so to speak?”
“Crudely put, but basically correct,” answered Barry.
“How long have you been associated with Roland?”
“Around seven years,” she said.
“How did you come to be in his employ?”
Once she got the green light from Barry, she gave the details as she had given them to me. Neither of the detectives appeared shocked or surprised on hearing her explanation.
“Do you know what Roland does for a living?”
“She does,” replied Barry. “But we are uncertain how this pertains to why we are here.”
Mallard got up from the table taking his water. He stepped over next the glass frame and drank. It was now Cummings’s turn to talk, pulling out three of photos from the folder before him and placed them side by side for Dona to see.
“Please look at these,” he said.
Dona gasped at the pictures. One was of the truck, its back window shot out. The second was of the front seat with all the blood on it. The third a picture of the deceased body found at the golf course.
“Do you know the dead man?” asked Cummings
“Yes.”
“Name, please.”
“Merrick. I think his last name was Smith or Jones, something common.”
“Yes, it’s Merrick Jones,” stated Cummings. “He works for Roland?”
“Yes.”
“What does he do for Roland?”
Over she glanced again at Barry for confirmation, which he provided.
“Protection. He was a bodyguard, a security person.”
“He was shot by Jarvis here escaping the scene where a pair of felonies had been committed. Do you know anything about these crimes? Are you involved in anyway?”
After another drink of water, she shook her head no. Turning sideways she crossed her legs, switching sides, revealing copious amounts of tanned thigh. Not sure she understood the effect it had on men, but I certainly enjoyed it.
“What about these photos,” Cummings said.
After putting away the first three, he pulled out two more.
“Oh my,” yelled Dona at the first photo.
It was of the burned body of Jack. Even though I’d seen pictures like this before, it still put a knot in my stomach.
“Is this necessary, Detective?” stated Barry. “Do we need to see all of these crime scene photos? They are extremely graphic and are upsetting my client.”
“Honestly, Counselor, yes,” he replied. “Your client may not have anything to do with this felony, but she is connected to the people who committed it, and this dead body. Dona, tell me who is the person in the second picture?”
“It’s hard to tell from the photo. It’s so yucky.”
“Come now. Something should seem familiar.”
“I can guess because of what Jarvis told me.”
Cummings waited for an answer, drumming his fingers on the table.
“It might be Jack.”
“Full name again please.”
“Jack Tanner.”
“And you know Jack?”
Looking at Barry she nodded yes.
“Knew him intimately?”
She checked and again nodded. Almost like a puppet on a string.
“So you were involved with Jack and asked Roland to kill him.”
“No!” she yelled.
“Detective, you are barking up the wrong tree. If anything, my client cared for Jack. She was shocked when hearing of his death.”
“So why was he killed?”
“She doesn’t know,” replied Barry.
“Miss Wiggins?” asked Cummings.
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
“Did Roland find out about your relationship with Jack and murder him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe, but…”
“He was mad you were fucking Jack, had him shot and then torched his body to a crisp!”
“It’s all speculation on your part and ours,” stated Barry. “My client doesn’t know and wasn’t involved in the crime.
If you have no plan to charge her, we are leaving. We’ve had enough of your badgering.”
Barry stood up, gently pulling Dona to her feet. Cummings rose up, knocking the chair over. He walked around the table, looking like he was coming at Barry. I made a beeline in front to block him. He was bigger than I was but I wouldn’t flinch.
“What are you going to do, hit me?” I asked. “I’d say her lawyer made it clear she is here cooperating, but the cooperation has ended. Charge her or let us walk.”
Cummings face was red, and I hoped he’d take a swing at me. I’d seen him press the stop button on the recording when getting up, but it didn’t matter; there were enough witnesses. Mallard stepped over and pulled Cummings back away. Neither said anything else, so Barry led Dona out by the arm, while I followed.
“Well, this was fun,” said Barry once we were outside. “I may not get paid, but it’s never boring when you’re involved.”
“I do my best to make it interesting.”
Barry handed Dona his card and told her to call if she needed anything. She gave him a long embrace before I helped her into the car and drove her back to her friend’s place. Being cautious, I had one eye on the road and the other in the mirror. There were no tails from what I saw, either from the bad guys or the police. When we arrived I escorted her up to the condo, following her in to make sure she was safe. Once inside, I saw she was shaking. I came over and put my arm around her, wondering if she was having a breakdown. She turned herself into my body and started crying. I let it play out, though I hated tears from a woman. But I couldn’t leave her alone in this condition. It was several minutes before she stopped, my coat stained with her sobs.
“I’m sorry. They were so mean,” she said sniffling.
“First time you’ve been interrogated by the police?” I asked.
“Yes. I can’t say I enjoyed it.”
“It’s why I wanted Barry there to protect you.”
“It was nice of him. There is no way I can pay him.”
“Come visit him at his office wearing this outfit should be payment enough.”
She gave me a big smile, her body still pressed up against mine. I was trying to remain calm. Coolness was never one of my strong suits in these situations. Staring out the window I saw the chill in the air and wished I could open it to cool the torridness I was experiencing.
“What would you have done to the officer if he’d pressed any more?”
“Well, another step and I might have shoved him back. He and I have a little bit of history. He doesn’t care for me much, and the feeling is mutual. But I wasn’t going to let him push Barry or you around. Intimidation is part of the questioning process for the police.”
“Normally a cop pulls me over in my car, I bat my eyes at him, flirt some, show a little cleavage and they let me off with a warning.”
“No surprise that works.” I said with a lump in my throat.
She placed her hand on my chest, my heart pounding against her palm.
“You weren’t intimidated?”
I swallowed first before answering, sensing my voice cracking.
“No, I wasn’t.”
She looked up at me. I sensed she wanted to kiss me, but I resisted the urge to lock lips. All my manly hormones were fighting me, though.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I need to go clean up my makeup.”
She walked out of the room and I did my best not to leer at her rear end in her short, skin-tight skirt. I continued to stand there, not sure what to do. I should hightail it out of there while possible. I wasn’t certain I could trust myself. But I didn’t want to be rude, or that was my excuse to stay.
A few minutes passed and I heard her coming. I looked up and she walked in stark naked, except for the high heels she was wearing. I think I gasped when I saw her. For all she had been through, the life she had led being a sex toy to who knows how many men, her body still was in marvelous shape. Her breasts were D-cup firm, her legs shapely like a man would want wrapped around him, and there wasn’t a hair on her body anywhere except for the red hair on her head. She came over and moved back into the same spot she had earlier, both hands on my chest, her solidly against me. I swallowed hard again to clear my throat.
“Do you like what you see?” she said in a deep, sexy tone.
I wanted to scream out hell, yeah, but resisted.
“Beautiful.”
“Do you want me?”
“I do.”
“I’m yours. Take me however you want me.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not? I can tell you’re excited,” she said while running her hand over the front of my pants.
“I am. It’s difficult not to be, seeing all of your naked beauty. But it wouldn’t be right.”
“Is it because of my past, all the men I’ve been with?”
“No. It’s because I’m with someone else right now and I want to be faithful to her.”
“She wouldn’t have to know. I won’t tell.”
There was a sense of déjà vu, as it was the same conversation we had at the restaurant.
“I know you won’t. But I’ll know. I cheated on her once before and nearly lost her. I don’t want to take a chance again only to get my rocks off, no matter how much I want to.”
“Come now, I can be supremely persuasive.”
She rose up on her heels and kissed me. It was an A-rated kiss, with all the saliva and tongue a man would want. I obliged by lightly kissing back, but quickly pulled my lips away. I put my arms around her and hugged her. It was all I would do.
“You don’t need to fuck me for me to help you,” I said in her ear. “I know it is how your life has been. Sex was how you got what you wanted, how men with you got what they wanted. I don’t want to use you. I will assist you and expect nothing in return, no matter how much I want to.”
As I held onto her I felt her crying again. Hopefully, it was a good cry this time. My suede leather jacket wouldn’t be able to handle much more of this. Staring down at her naked backside I saw marks and bruises which were healing; evidence of the hard life she led. It was hard to imagine the pain she had endured all these years.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Might be the nicest thing any man has ever said to me.”
“You need to know there is more to life than sex,” I said. “Well, not much more, but at least sex with someone you care about for the right reasons.”
I think I made her laugh this time, the shaking not sounding like tears.
“Yes, fucking has been all I’ve ever had or done. It’s all I’ve ever been good at. The question is, what do I do instead?”
“Everyone has a talent or a skill they can fall back on. Something you want to do and enjoy. You have to discover what it is. It’s a passion in your heart you seek, where you don’t need to open your legs and submit to anyone you don’t want to submit to. Spend some time thinking about it. I’ll help however I can.”
Dona pulled away from me and kissed me on the cheek.
“Thank you, Jarvis. I will think it over and search, like you said.”
“I’d better be going before I change my mind. Stay put and I’ll call you when I know what our next move will be.”
She walked me to the door, and, once outside, I took in a deep breath of the cold, damp December air, hoping it would reach all the way down and ease the pressure on my kindled loins. Much more of this and I’d need zipper repair work done!
Chapter 36
I made it through another night, but barely. I needed to stay away from sexy women wanting me, unless it was Melissa, or I might have to take it upon myself to bring relief. After my hard workout with Brandon, today I was going to go jogging with Ray. Raven told me he jogged most every morning at around seven if it wasn’t snowing. It was a frigid but snow-free day, so I stopped by his house and waited for him to come out, joining him in a slow jog down the sidewalk. He turned and saw me, nervous at first until he recognized me.
“Jarvis, wh
at are you doing here?” he asked.
“I wanted to see how you were, so I thought I’d join you.”
We kept an easy pace.
“How did you know I’d be running?”
“A little birdie told me.”
He smiled at my pun.
“How are you two doing?” I asked.
“Good. We have gotten very close. She has helped me immensely.”
“She is quite a lady. I like her a lot. You make a wonderful couple.”
“Not sure Dad sees it.”
“It’s not his life or his choice. I know he’ll come around. I bet his parents didn’t like your mom at first either.”
We took a right turn and found a bike path to continue on. There weren’t many people out today as the air was cold, the temps in the teens. I could see my breath as we continued the easy pace. The older guy Brandon had worked me into the ground, so I wasn’t going to let the young athlete leave me in his dust. He ran easily, his muscles straining against his tight sweatshirt, his honed football body gracefully moving forward.
“Keeping in shape, I can see.” I asked.
“I’m in OK shape but not football shape,” he answered. “That only happens when practicing, hitting someone and getting hit. I have a ways to go before I’m ready for contact.”
“It will come. It takes time and patience. Rushing back too fast will set you back longer, possibly permanently.”
A couple of young ladies jogging the other way passed us. Both smiled at us as I gave them a nod. Each was attractive in their spandex pants and tops. Not sure how they were staying warm on this cold day with so little on, but was grateful for the eyeful. So long as the view was at a distance, I was safe. Ray picked up the pace slightly. I continued to hold my own.
“What have you been doing to pass the time?” I asked.
“Medical appointments and some school work. They are allowing me take some classes from home so I don’t get too far behind. Constance is assisting me. Of course, I’m working out per the doctor’s orders; not too much but enough keep the heart pumping.”
“How about your family?” I said, now finding I was becoming a bit winded.