Holly held her silence and waited, scared out of her mind but too afraid to move, trying to follow the tumbling thoughts, trying to glue fragments together, dreading the buzzer would interrupt.
"Shall I tell you what you dare not imagine for yourself? That Naomi happily spread her legs for me and I fucked her until she was raw? That she let me do things to her that even her mother wouldn't let me do? Do you want to hear how rough she liked it? She would tell her mother the bruises were from school sports. She shocked me, sometimes, too, and I was wild in my younger days." He opened his eyes wide, in an exaggerated way, and craned his neck upward.
"Yes, I found her beguiling and couldn't keep my hands off of her. Little miss sweet sixteen-year old innocent with her whispery little voice was crazy for the bed. Now that I have had the luxury of time to think about such things... I imagine it was the only thing that distracted her from her pain." There was defiance in his eyes, daring judgment, like a magician who defies the audience to spot his slight of hand.
Holly sat silently, careful not to throw wood on this fire. "Mr. Linser, it doesn't matter if there was consent. She was underage. There are laws and you broke them, which is why you are here," Holly explained. "It also doesn't matter what I think, personally."
Wolf raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders and gestured with his hands. "Legally she was my daughter. Was it incest? Of course not. She was not of my blood. If she was underage, it was a mere technicality. She was a woman, she was a child, she was my baby, she was my love," he paused, withdrawing into himself, then put his fingers together like a teepee and pressed them against his forehead. He spoke again and now his voice was calm. "I'll tell you one thing - and perhaps I am just realizing this now… I tell you as me, Wolf, a man who has been with many women - young, no longer young and everything in between - no woman is that good in bed straight out of the box, after you unwrap the tissue paper and ribbon, even if they like the bed, there are many things to learn. So something is very strange. But I assure you, I taught that girl nothing, except maybe to not moan so loud that it might scare the horses."
"This meeting is over," Holly stood to go. She had finally had enough. His calm voice scared her more than his crazy voice.
"Aarrghh!" Wolf growled in mockery as if he would grab her. "You're exactly like Kendall, no wonder she chose you," he spat. "I see how you sit prim and proper with your knees pressed together but you are paid by the hour, so here you are. You might be disgusted by me but you disgust me, too."
"You are a user and a hustler and a hypocrite, that is all. What did Camus say about hypocrisy?" Holly said, her cheeks hot.
"No man is a hypocrite in his pleasure," he spat, then looked pleased as he waited for the surprise to register. It was a tiny moment between them, a connection where Holly had only seen madness, but Holly resisted.
He shrugged, using his entire body and leaned back, stretching. "I see you make assumptions about me, too. You see me as an uneducated man, a man of no social standing deserving to be locked up and forgot about. Why did Kendall Taylor marry me? Maybe she was slumming. Or tired of dressing up in fancy lingerie and jewels for those billionaires she married. Maybe she found some pleasure because she could wear jeans and no panties and fuck on a bale of hay. Camus may equally have said that no woman is a hypocrite in her pleasure either." His eyes had a challenging glint, his mouth a hard line. "Do I offend you?"
It was obvious he was trying to push her every button. Holly wanted to turn and walk away and let him rot in the hell of his mind and this place, but she didn't. Holly couldn’t stop herself from saying what she said next.
"Yes, Mr. Linser you offend me.” Holly said hotly, her voice tight. “But what offends me the most, is that you are a coward. You have no hope, so you are rude and vile. You are selfish. You hurt Ms. Taylor. You used her and then left without any explanation. You are a user. That's why you offend me."
Holly's chest was heaving as she spoke. She didn't like this man. Down and out, hungry, penniless, yet proud and defiant. Had she turned away at that moment, she would never have been responsible for what happened next. She would never have been faced with the moral and ethical dilemmas that lawyers face after learning the truth of their clients' lives. Instead, she looked directly into his eyes and saw a rawness that had not been there. His shoulders slumped and he bent his head. The truth of her words hung between them.
The horror! Holly had stripped Wolf Linser of the last of his human dignity because she could not hold her tongue and gave way to her temper instead. In this place, he was not Mr. Wolf Linser as she addressed him; he was prisoner: 985426 who would be stripped naked and made to bend over and cavity searched before going back to his cell, back to a room full of nothing, to memories that became more remote each day.
"Forgive me." Holly bowed her head, her eyes wet. The superficiality of any other words would create only more damage. Holly meant it with all her heart and he knew she was genuinely sorry. In that moment trust was cemented and a friendship sealed.
Chapter 30
"I'm not proud of what I did. I was in a situation, isolated, where my judgment... decayed gradually," Wolf Linser looked up at Holly as he spoke. He sat back with his long legs stretched out as he spoke.
At thirty-two years old, Wolf Linser had found himself divorced and mourning the death of his infant daughter from leukemia. The slow, cruel death had squeezed every ounce of hope and faith out of him and destroyed his marriage in the process. He was newly divorced from a model who had graced the covers of fashion magazines and the swimsuit issue of Sports Illustrated. He partied hard to numb the pain. The divorce settlement didn't last long. The marriage had been brief.
When his money dried up, Wolf found himself alone with nowhere to go. He made his way to Las Vegas to distract himself with the bright lights. His good looks and muscular shoulders caught the attention of a woman whose husband, twenty years her senior, lay bedridden back in Manhattan. She coolly slipped him several thousand dollars with which to gamble and amuse her.
He won. They drank good champagne, and nature took its course. After a few days, she went home to New York, and he sat on the hotel bed and counted his money. He had a stake, and the stunning realization that older women in Las Vegas would pay to be charmed, amused - and fucked. In fact, that was exactly why they came. And even better, they would make no other demands on him, no scenes, no 'talks', no planning his future, no trying to change him.
It was perfect.
From that point he was hooked. Wealthy older women became his lifestyle and the means to support his gambling. The excitement and adrenaline rush of gambling and the game of seducing these hungry, sex-starved women gradually displaced his love of horses.
Unfortunately he did not have the personal means to support the inevitable dry spells. In actuality, he was just an average lover, but his good looks and charm and seemingly exotic European style perhaps made the women's memories better than they really were. If they went home happy, who was he to pass judgment?
Wolf Linser walked through the casino perusing players until he spotted a woman playing alone.
"Want a tip?" He leaned over, playfully. She hesitated but was amused by his boldness.
Wolf woke up at 2:30 pm the next day with a splitting headache. His recollection of the previous night was completely fragmented. The girl had wanted to drink mixed cocktails, which he never did, and in bed she had been demanding but not interesting. He remembered the craps table, and something about winning big on the field even though it was a sucker bet.
He was completely dehydrated from the shitty bar drinks and felt awful. He picked up the Champagne bucket full of melted ice water and threw it on the girl’s naked back. He heard her shreek as he entered the shower, then realized as he was looking for shampoo that he was in the girl’s room. He showered and left quickly.
After two Tylenols and a nap it was time to collect himself and get ready for the night’s action. He was down to his last money, hi
s last few comped meal coupons.
Four months later, he had survived, but barely. The blue and white smoke was the same, but the cigarettes a generic brand. The careful manicure, the fussy hair styling, the pressed suits and shirts and carefully knotted ties... the expensive watch... the ritual nightly shoeshine, the gracious tipping - these were only a memory. Worse, they had been his work tools, the way a carpenter needs a hammer and a fisherman needs a boat. How many rolls of the dice did he have left?
Chapter 31
Wolf stood at the table cursing himself for losing almost every penny that he managed to extract from his last conquest's jewelry at the pawnshop, but not all hope was lost. He had a few chips left.
Reflexively, he had started spinning his charms on the woman gambling at the table with him. A smile here, a comment there - he knew she couldn't take her eyes off of him. Then a man, probably her husband, came to her elbow and said something to her. Wolf played one more hand, pissed and distracted, and lost. He threw his last chip to the croupier, hoping the gods would bless him for it. He cursed himself further for misreading the woman. It was because he was hungry. The real truth was that screwing the girl the night before had taken more out of him than he had thought, though he was not happy to admit it.
He went to the café restaurant in the hotel and used his last meal comp ticket on breakfast. He knew he had less than a hundred dollars left in his pocket, not counting his money clip, which was untouchable, but felt better after eating. He could focus now. He strolled through the casino in a more relaxed mood, when he noticed a stunning blonde with the most unusual of qualities - she was alone.
It was Kendall Taylor, playing alone. Spotting Kendall Taylor in a Las Vegas casino was like walking through a used car lot and seeing the owner's Porsche 911 purring patiently while he gutted another fish inside.
Wolf could see that this was a sophisticated woman. Her silk-draped body was full of promise. Wolf could identify almost any high-end Italian brand, and this woman's clothes were a confident mix. She had not just walked into a store and allowed herself to be dressed. She had an eye and worked at it. She had long blonde hair, but it was wavy and casual and touchable. The shoes were glossy black heels with a zipper at the back and small gold lock at the top. She had confidence and a sense of humor. And of course the jewels. Around her neck they were whimsical, high quality costume, chosen for color to compliment her outfit. The money shot was on her finger, a brilliant cut diamond, at least five carats. He could be wrong about it, but he didn't think so.
Wolf needed an angle, a way to connect, a plan on how to get that pretty looking woman with the big diamond on her finger to turn into another notch on his belt. He would be patient. He watched her long enough to make sure she was truly alone. He was not going to blow it.
The dealer shuffled the cards, and she was about to play when Wolf Linser touched her arm and whispered discretely in her ear. "Pass this hand, then ask for a new shoe."
Kendall did as she was told and asked for new cards. Wolf ignored the dirty look from the croupier. Taylor immediately won again. After only ten minutes, Kendall was up $5,000. She was so thrilled she tipped the dealer a hundred dollar bill and turned to Wolf.
"Here," she said. "How did you know?!" She held a grand in it to him.
"No, no, no,” he said, in a manner that only encouraged her to try and stuff it in his pocket, laughing.
There was something different about this one. His typical choice of prey were the older, married lonely women, but this one, there seemed to be more than one night's worth of cashing in, and she wasn't hard on his eyes. Even more unusual, it didn’t look like a plastic surgeon had been anywhere near her.
Kendall was thinking that this was really turning out to be her lucky day and not only because she was winning money, but she was doing her best to seduce this handsome young man with an interesting, lilting European accent. Not German. Dutch?
She felt she would like to be on his arm, having already burned through two very wealthy husbands.
“Thank you, “ Kendall said and extended her hand and after a handshake walked towards the elevator. She flashed a smile.
“Perhaps we can meet up later and you can share your luck with me again?"
Wolf put on his best smile and walked towards her.
"Perhaps we can go to your room now and we'll see about later, later?" The look in her eyes told him that he got her and now it was time to get to work.
"What a lucky day," Taylor thought to herself. She had a handsome young man at her side, free money in her pocket, and a private suite where the carnal possibilities seemed limitless. Kendall Taylor was on top of her game.
Two hours later, her suite was a mess. The shower door handle and coffee table had broken in their romp. Wolf barely took notice of the look of satisfaction on Kendall's face. He was used to pleasing women in bed via any means necessary. He wished though, that he hadn't spent half the previous night screwing. No matter, he knew many ways to keep Kendall purring.
They lay naked on the bed, content, passing a bottle of mineral water back and forth, discussing what to order from room service. It was only then he noticed her beautiful handbag on the dresser, and the metal horse stirrup that joined the leather straps. He remembered also that she had been wearing a bracelet with the same stirrup design. His heart thumped a little in his chest. He took a chance.
"Is your handbag just fashion? Or are you actually interested in horses?"
Taylor raised an eyebrow. "That's their theme, Hermés. It's a French company. They use a lot of horse and tacking images in their designs. They make actual saddles, too. I'll buy you an Hermés tie, with a stirrup design, so you won't forget about me."
"How would I forget about you? How would that be possible?" He kissed her ear, which, yes, had diamond studs that matched the ring he was sure now was Cartier. Wolf had shocked himself with his sincerity, and immediately changed the subject.
"Tacking?" Wolf smiled, lighting two of her Dunhill cigarettes with his Dunhill lighter, and placing one carefully between her full ripe lips. "What is tacking?"
"What you do to a horse with leather straps."
"Or what I would do to you with leather straps?"
"The straps don't have to be leather." Eventually, they did talk about horses, and a bond was made.
Chapter 32
For three more days Kendall and Wolf enjoyed themselves. Each day Kendall disappeared to the hotel spa for a few hours and always looked great when she came back. Whatever she was doing, it worked. She made sure Wolf never saw the same outfit twice, which considering the small suitcase she had brought meant she was shopping. She had also attended a couple of meetings with the owners or sommeliers of several high-end restaurants who were clients of her finest Napa Valley winery and needed to be assured they were getting a fair share her very popular but limited production Cabernet Sauvignon which she had whimsically named ‘Indiscretion’.
For his part, while Kendall was in the spa Wolf swam hard lengths in the hotel pool and felt better for it. He had been too stressed in recent weeks to take care of himself. There was probably no place on earth with more pools than Vegas, he thought - and nowhere were they less used.
Otherwise they gambled only a little, would quit when they got ahead, and then go back to the room and have paint-peeling sex. Kendall was demanding in bed, but also generous, and after she liked to listen to his stories of dressage and jumping horses for the Olympic games.
"The way you tell the stories, I feel like I'm there," Kendall said. She snuggled deeper into his arms enjoying his scent, the touch of his hard, taut skin and muscular arms. It had been a long time since Wolf had actually talked to a woman, at least one who had some idea what he was talking about. He shrugged. Kendall loved Champagne, sex and horses, and for now, that was enough. Inevitably, the idyll ended, and surprisingly, it was Wolf who ended it.
"I have to go and see a producer in Calgary," he said, as he carefully unpacked his new shirts
and placed them in the dresser drawer. "Not a movie, but something for the Calgary Stampede next summer. Produce some stunts, get back in the groove, you know."
Kendall stopped fussing with her make up. "When do you go?"
"Day after tomorrow, so we should make bread while the crocuses bloom."
And so they did. Kendall's luck at the tables continued, and as she dropped him at the airport two days later she pressed a fat envelope into his hand.
"You'll feel more confident with this in your pocket," Wolf kissed her warmly and promised to call from his hotel.
"Do more than call. Come to L.A. after your meeting."
Wolf's nerves were calm and excited at the same moment. She was hooked. He had taken a risk, but like a smart fisherman, letting Kendall have some line to run with had been the wise move.
Of course there was no horse-show producer in Calgary. The only way Wolf was going to the Stampede was if he bought a ticket. He waited patiently until Kendall's limo was out of sight, then waved down the next cab. He did not go back to the strip, but to a modest but decent family-friendly motel closer to the airport, where air-crews often stayed.
Wolf had decided not to drink for a few days. He had a case of sparkling water, a case of Dunhills, a deck of cards, and the ice machine was down the hall. His plan had been to hook a woman like Kendall, and he had. Nonetheless he admitted he was kind of in shock at his success. Now what? The problem was he really enjoyed Kendall's company, but it complicated things. In his first marriage he had been a young idiot, signing what was put in front of him like a fool. How often would he get a clean shot at a woman like Kendall? It was getting late in the game to make mistakes. He had to play this hand perfectly.
The Virgin Whore Trial: A Holly Park Legal Thriller Page 12