Greg was heartbroken. Had the savage already raped his Cynthia? And maybe even killed her?
Chaucey went on. “And then he followed me here. He would have raped me or killed me if Crow hadn’t come to my rescue.” She smiled at Crow.
Rebecca jumped in. “How long has he been gone?”
“Five minutes or so. He took the stairs.”
“What motel? What’s the room number?” said Rebecca.
“The Lovelong Motel. Room 109.”
“I saw it on our way in,” said Sandy.
“Thanks,” said Greg to Chaucey. “And I’m glad you’re okay.”
Crow and Chaucey heard the trio run down the hall and out to the stairs.
**********
Larry had been denied the luscious Chaucey. He had hungered for her body. He had longed to devour her. Had his hot streak of luck finally gone cold? Impossible, he thought. He had been lucky his whole life.
And after all, he had escaped unharmed. He should have been dead—or at least have had some broken bones. Any mere mortal would have. But he had walked away unscathed. So, no—he hadn’t lost his luck. He had just been barking up the wrong tree. Barking up the wrong she, he thought. Oh, how clever he was.
Larry parked the Jaguar, hopped out, and went into Room 110. “Hope you got a nice nap.”
“I need to go to the bathroom,” said Cynthia.
He took the cuffs off and she went into the bathroom.
“Hurry it up,” he said through the door. “We’re getting out of here—now.” He knew there was a possibility that big Chaucey’s friend would come after him. No need to press his luck.
Cynthia walked out. “Where are we going now?”
“Oh, you’re gonna love it. It’ll bring back old memories.”
She had no idea what he was talking about, but she knew it couldn’t be good.
They got into the Jaguar and drove away.
Cynthia wondered where Larry had gone and what he had done. She hoped Chaucey was okay.
**********
“I don’t see his car,” said Rebecca.
“Maybe he parked it in back,” said Sandy.
Greg jumped out of the Bonneville and ran to Door 109 and started banging.
Sandy was close behind, banging on the door right next to Greg’s—110.
After they had made a lot of racket for thirty seconds or so, a woman wrapped in a sheet came out of 108 and started to scream at them. “Stop it, you idiots!”
They stopped and looked at her.
She walked over closer to them and spoke confidentially. “I’ve got a client in there.” She nodded at her room.
“Sorry,” said Greg. A client? Is that what they call them these days?
Greg and Sandy looked to each other for direction. But before either of them could say anything, Rebecca got out of the car and ran at Door 110. Sandy jumped out of the way. She burst the door open, and then turned on the light. Greg and Sandy followed her in.
They looked around for clues that Larry and Cynthia had been there. Nothing had been left behind.
Greg walked over the bed and bent down to smell the bedspread.
Sandy cringed. “What are you doing, Man?”
“Cynthia was here. I can smell her perfume.” He felt the bed. “It’s still warm.”
“Well, at least we know she’s still alive,” said Rebecca.
“Yeah, but we don’t know where they went,” said Sandy.
“Let’s go back to The Woodlands,” said Rebecca. “Hopefully, he’s taking her to the apartment.”
Greg had tried not to think about how frightened Cynthia must be. Because when he did, it made him sick to his stomach. Cynthia was his wife. It was his job to protect her. He was a total failure as a husband.
26 - TALENTED LIAR
Rebecca got out of the car to check Larry’s apartment. In two minutes she was back. “They’re not here. He probably saw the broken window and took off. If he even came back here at all.”
“Great,” said Greg. “If he knows we’re on to him, he’ll be more careful. And we may never find him.”
“Yeah. But I don’t think he’s been back. Why don’t you and Sandy stay here and watch for him while I drive to the coffee shop and check his web page.”
“Okay.”
Greg and Sandy got out of the car and sat on the curb at the back of the parking lot.
Rebecca drove to the nearby coffee shop, bought a cup of coffee, and powered up her laptop. She was excited to see that Larry had posted a new chapter. Funny that he would take the time to write at 11:00 PM while on the run, she thought.
In previous chapters, Larry’s alter ego, Barry Undermine, had accurately described what Larry had been doing or was planning to do. But this time he had fictionalized. He told about meeting a beautiful woman in a motel while having his redhead in the next room. That much was true.
But then he went on to detail the woman’s insatiable appetite for sex. And he painted himself as one of those shirtless hunks you see on the cover of a romance novel. But, in spite of his considerable strength and endurance, he could barely keep up with her. She told him she didn’t know what had come over her. Never before had her passion been so…voracious.
Rebecca had to admit it—Larry was a talented liar.
He talked about how he had succeeded in making his redhead jealous. And now he would take her home and she would be eager to help him reenact their first night together.
Rebecca wondered what home he was referring to. And what would they be reenacting? Sex in the back seat of his car? Probably just more fiction, she thought.
Time for further research on Larry. Was it possible that Larry and Cynthia grew up in the same town? She remembered Greg saying Cynthia’s mom, Beverly, had recently moved in with her daughter. He hoped it would work with the three of them living in the same house. Beverly had moved from Marshall.
She called Greg’s cell. “Hey, Greg. Did Cynthia grow up in Marshall?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“What’s her maiden name?”
“Sonora.”
“Thanks.”
“Wait. Why are you asking this stuff?”
“Just a hunch. I’ll tell you later. Bye.”
She googled ‘Cynthia Sonora Marshall Texas’ and all she got was the wedding announcement in the Marshall News Messenger. So, she decided to search the paper’s archives.
She got several hits having to do with Cynthia’s work at the bank and one announcing the marriage to her first husband. Then she spotted a very old article featuring the high school cheerleading squad. Cute picture, she thought. Wonder if Greg’s seen this?
Rebecca searched the archives for ‘Larry Luzor,’ and was shocked by what she found. Larry was the hero of a big football game. The clock had run out when he made the game-winning catch in the end zone.
Unbelievable, thought Rebecca. He didn’t seem like the type. She read further.
This reporter has never witnessed a luckier catch. Larry Luzor, who had previously seen virtually no playing time this year, was wide open in the end zone. Yet the quarterback hesitated to pass him the ball. But just as he was about to be sacked, he fired the ball to Larry, who inexplicably bowed his head at the last second, causing the ball to hit his helmet and ricochet into the air.
When the football came down, Larry fumbled around with it for a second before he tripped and fell down. Honestly, I don’t think he ever had possession. But the ref called it good, and now the locals are calling Larry a hero.
I prefer to call him ‘Lucky Larry.’
Rebecca grabbed her laptop, hurried to the car, and drove away. She called Greg’s cell. “I’m coming to pick y’all up.”
“Why? What did you find out?”
“They went to the same high school.”
“Who?”
“Cynthia and Larry.”
“You’re kidding. He grew up in Marshall?”
“Yeah, and I’m pretty sure that’s where they’
re headed right now.”
“Why do you think that?”
“See the headlights coming toward you? That’s me. I’ll explain on the way.”
**********
“Very sexy. But it still doesn’t look like a cheerleader’s outfit,” said Larry. “We need some kind of little skirt to go over it.”
Larry looked around for assistance. “This Wal-Mart needs to hire more people.”
“It’s two o’clock in the morning,” said Cynthia. She was glad nobody else was there to see her standing in the aisle, modeling the skimpy ensemble he had put together.
He rummaged through the racks. “Here’s something.” He held out a mini-skirt. “Try it on.”
She started to walk toward the dressing room.
“No. Just put it on right here.”
Cynthia pulled the short skirt up under the longer one she was wearing.
He lifted the outer skirt to take a peek. “Perfect. Now go change so we can get out of here.”
Larry picked up the heavy duty work flashlights and batteries he had already selected. Finally, he would get to enjoy the special night he had always dreamed of.
**********
Crow should have been sleepy. He was an ‘early to bed, early to rise’ kind of guy. In the grocery business, you had to be. But he couldn’t stop looking at her face. He was sitting on Chaucey’s couch. She was lying across it, wrapped in the afghan, with her head resting in his lap.
In the one year Crow had known her, she had become so important to him. Oxygen, water, food, and Chaucey—in that order. And the first three wouldn’t matter if he ever lost the fourth.
He wanted to bend down and kiss her, but he couldn’t. It would not be right to take advantage of her while she was sleeping, he thought. So, he would just go on admiring her pretty face. Occasionally he glanced at the rest of her body. But he would not ogle her.
He wished he could track down Barry Undermine and teach him a lesson he’d never forget.
His eyes made another quick pass from her head to her toes and back, but this time he lingered a little too long at the lovely twin bumps.
“Hey there,” said Chaucey in a soft, hoarse voice.
“Hi.” His face turned bright red.
She smiled. “What time is it?”
He checked his watch. “2:20.”
“Aren’t you sleepy?”
“No, not really.”
She sat up. “Well, you need to go to bed. Don’t you have to get up early for work?”
“No. I’m off tomorrow.”
“Well, you still need to get some sleep. So, go on home. I’m fine now.”
“Okay.” He got up and walked to the door. “Aren’t you worried about this?”
Her door had suffered major damage when he had knocked it down earlier. There was no way to reattach it to the door frame—much less lock it.
“Well…”
“Come over and sleep in my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t want you staying here with no door.”
Chaucey thought about it for a second. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”
“And don’t worry—I won’t bother you.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “I know.” She put her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
It was the first time he’d ever felt that she fully understood how much he cared for her.
**********
It was nearly 4:00 AM on Monday morning, and they were thirty miles from Marshall. Larry had taken Highway 59 all the way from Sugar Land.
Good, he thought. There was enough nighttime remaining for the reenactment. The memories were so clear.
Cynthia was on the sideline in her cheerleader suit, jumping around with the other girls on the red gravel running track. Her little skirt flipped up every time she jumped. Her legs and arms glistened with sweet perspiration in the bright lights.
Longview’s defense foolishly ignored Larry, allowing him to run right past them. He was wide open, in the center of the end zone. The home crowd held their breath as the quarterback released the ball just before being tackled. And, in a moment of glory that would be remembered by Marshallites forever, Lawrence Igby Luzor caught the pass and won the game!
The bleachers erupted in cheers, whistles, and screams. The mass of people flowed out onto the field like hot lava. Larry was surrounded by his new fans.
It was an amazing night. And it had been perfect—almost. Now he would replay that night with his own alternate ending.
As soon as he made the winning catch, everybody in the stands would cheer, but stay in their places. Cynthia would run out to him with a big smile on her face and jump into his arms. He would throw off his helmet and give her a long, wet kiss. Then she would lie down on the grass, flip up her skirt and wink at him.
The 9,000 people in attendance would continue to whistle and cheer as he and Cynthia rocked and rolled all over the field. Then Cynthia would jump up and proclaim him the greatest lover in the world.
He had now accepted the reality that he could never make Cynthia love him. But he could make her pretend to love him at least once. At least tonight.
27 - REENACTMENT
Cynthia changed clothes in the car while Larry stood a few yards away. She was surprised he hadn’t insisted on watching.
He pointed one of the heavy duty flashlights toward her as she got out of the Jaguar.
“Very nice,” he said.
“What are we doing here, Larry?”
“We’re going to relive the night of the game.”
Yes, the game, she thought. It was the only memorable football game for Larry.
He led her down the running track to the ten-yard line.
“Okay, you’ll be right here doing your cheers.” Larry dug the back end of the heavy duty flashlight into the ground until the beam was directed at her.
“It’s been 12 years since high school. I don’t remember any of the cheers.”
“I don’t believe you, but I figured you’d say that. So, I brought this.”
He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. “Here you go.”
She read over the two cheers.
Cheer No. 1:
Okay, let’s go. (clap hands & stomp feet)
Okay, let’s go. (clap hands & stomp feet)
We are the Mavericks
We’re in control. (clap hands & stomp feet)
Okay, let’s go. (clap hands & stomp feet)
Okay, let’s go. (clap hands & stomp feet)
The mighty Marshall Mavericks
Will put on a show. (clap hands & stomp feet)
Gooooooooooooo Mavs! (stomp feet like crazy)
Cheer No. 2:
We’re gonna crank you,
We’re gonna spank you.
Look out now, (clap, clap)
Look out now. (clap, clap)
We’re gonna flip you,
We’re gonna rip you.
Look out now, (clap, clap)
Look out now. (clap, clap)
(clap, clap, clap, clap, clap)
When your head is getting’ starry
You’ll be thinkin’ that you’re sorry
That you e- (clap) ven (clap) came. (clap, clap, clap)
You’ll be runnin’ home to mommie,
Go to bed in your pajamies to forget (clap) this (clap) game.
(clap, clap, clap)
“We never did this second one,” she said.
“I wrote that one myself. So, I’ll be on the field, and after you’ve done the two cheers I will reenact the famous catch that won the game.”
He’s completely lost it, thought Cynthia.
“Then my fans will go crazy in the stands. And you’ll run out on the field and jump into my arms and kiss me. Then you’ll get down on the ground and invite me to have sex with you.”
“What? No, I won’t.”
“And we’ll do it over and over again—until I’m worn out.”
“I’m not doing that.”
Larry reached into his pocket and pulled out the watch bomb remote. “When the time comes, I’m sure you’ll do the right thing.”
Cynthia started doing the first cheer. Greg, where are you? Please come save me. But nobody could possibly figure out that Larry would bring her to Marshall, to Mav Stadium at 4:30 in the morning. There would be no one to save her. She was on her own.
She could either keep her left hand intact by having sex with him or she could try to escape and probably lose her hand. Could she run fast enough to get away from him? She was a very good runner, so she doubted he could catch her. But if he pushed that little red button and blew off her hand she might bleed to death.
What would she do when the moment of truth would arrived? She decided she’d rather give up her body to the angel of death than to let Larry have it.
**********
Greg and company had stopped by the LaQuinta in The Woodlands to pick up Sandy’s car. They had traveled to Marshall at high speed, making only one quick pit stop.
When Greg turned north onto Maverick Drive, he got the jitters. What if they had been wrong, and Larry and Cynthia were still back in The Woodlands? But then he turned into the stadium parking lot and saw the Jaguar.
He killed his headlights and Sandy followed suit. Greg prayed Larry wouldn’t hear their cars—they needed to make a surprise attack. There was almost no moonlight, but Greg figured the street lights would allow them to see well enough to slip up on Larry.
Greg walked to Sandy’s door and whispered as he pointed, “Why don’t y’all go around that way and I’ll go this way.”
They nodded in agreement.
When Greg turned the corner and saw Cynthia, his heart began to pound. She was near his end of the field, standing in the beam of a propped up flashlight. But why was she wearing that outfit? He saw Larry striding toward her, carrying a flashlight. Greg tiptoed toward them, confident he was hidden in the darkness.
“I told you what you were supposed to do,” said Larry. “This is the part where you run out and kiss me!”
“And I told you—I’m not going to do it,” she said.
Greg Tenorly Suspense Series Boxed Set Page 52