"I have an idea, why don't we go swimming. The pool is heated.” Justin stuck his hand in the warm, clear water. “Hmmmm, feels nice."
"Sounds like a plan to me. How about you ladies, wanna swim with us?” Beverly turned to the girls.
"We ain't got no bathing suits.” Shelly wrinkled her brow. Lilly shook her head in agreement.
"Well, what clothes did you bring?” Beverly asked gingerly.
Shelly and Lilly shrugged their shoulders and gave their grimy t-shirts a little tug. “We only got a couple of t-shirts and some blue jean shorts.” Shelly told her, pitifully.
Beverly thought for a moment. “So, I guess you just may have to borrow one of mine. Come on, let's go to my bungalow, we'll find you something."
Shelly and Lilly's faces flashed with excitement, and the two of them leaped up. Beverly turned to Justin. “Meet you back here in ten minutes?"
"I'll be here!” he grinned, and went inside to change.
"Let's go, just down that path. I'm staying in one of the bungalows.” Beverly pointed to the concrete stairs that let to the flower-laden pathway to the tiny villas.
The three made their way down the path, the girls wide-eyed at the beautiful, tropical flowers and multicolored lights that decorated the walkway. Beverly could barely make out two figures on the beach, standing at the shoreline. One of the figures looked like Angela, but she was not sure.
They finally arrived at their bungalow, and Beverly was relieved to find it empty. The girls looked around.
"This is a right fine place. A little house right on the beach.” Shelly observed.
"Yes, they over-booked the hotel, so we are staying out here. I got lucky I guess.” Beverly searched her suitcase and was glad that she had packed two one-piece bathing suits. She would wear one, and lend the other to Lilly.
"Here, sweetie, why don't you try this one? It's okay. It's mine. You can change in the bathroom.” Beverly handed it to Lilly, who went to go change. Now, what to give to Shelly. Beverly only had two suits. She checked Angela's suitcase, and found that she had packed her bikini. Angela won't mind, she thought. Besides, Angela was being rude on this trip, and owed her a favor.
"Here you go.” Beverly tossed the bikini to Shelly.
"Ya’ sure ya’ don't mind? I hate to be imposin’ my self and all.” Shelly stood forlornly in the middle of the room.
"Not at all, now go change.” Beverly smiled.
Lilly soon emerged from the bathroom, looking terribly scrawny in the ill-fitting suit. As Shelly went in the bathroom, Beverly grabbed three fluffy hotel towels. She noticed, for the first time, a bruise that resembled a handprint on Lilly's left buttock. Beverly thought about asking her about it, but decided not to. There was plenty of time this weekend to get to know this little waif of a girl and that was exactly what she planned to do.
* * * *
Andrew sat alone in his hotel room, typing furiously on his son's laptop computer. Jason never left the house without it, because he was always on call. At any moment, Jason might need some vital information about the latest fugitive on the loose.
Andrew clicked onto the FBI's website, used Jason's password, and got in. Andrew couldn't leave his old law enforcement days, and still found it thrilling to see which bad guys had been captured. Jason knew all there was to know about forensics, but it was still a new game to Andrew. He researched frantically trying to find some information about the current science. He clicked on the FBI's fugitive database, and searched in a frenzy to find something, anything, on Donnie McCoy. His search was futile. He found nothing that he did not already know.
Not to be overcome, he continued searching. He stumbled upon a list of the latest criminals who had not been caught, the ones on the FBI's ‘most wanted’ list. Andrew decided to skim over the names or descriptions and see if he happened to recognize any of them. One particular, unnamed fugitive stood out. He read aloud, “Serial rapist reported. Allegedly uses some sort of narcotic to drug his victims and render them unconscious.” Andrew took a closer look. “A reported twenty young women have been physically beaten and molested by this assailant who goes by the alias name of ‘John Smith'. According to the victims’ accounts, ‘John Smith’ approached them in bars or clubs and drugged them without their acknowledgments. They awoke after the rapes tied and gagged in motel rooms or trash dumpsters."
His blood boiling now, Andrew squinted to get a closer look at the artist's rendering and description,—male, around five-feet-seven-inches, early to mid-twenties, Caucasian, with brown hair and brown eyes. That could be anybody! Andrew thought.
He continued to scroll down the page with concern. Over twenty complaints and the asshole has not even been apprehended? And this is happening in New York, right under my son's nose? Andrew made a mental note to talk to his son—tell him to make some phone calls and get some extra units out to all the clubs and bars in New York. No maniac like that should be on the loose.
In all his years as a cop, he knew that when it came to dealing with people like this, it was only a matter of time before they killed somebody. To Andrew, any man who hurt a woman was no man. Men were the guardians and lovers of women. He believed that God made men the stronger gender in order to protect women, and any man who used that power for diabolical purposes should be severely punished. Being very close to their mother, his sons felt the same way he did. Jason would be more than furious when he saw this.
The sudden ring of the telephone jolted him back to reality. He quickly lifted the receiver. “Yes!” he said, curtly.
"I have an idea, meet me in the bar in the lobby!” Stephen panted.
"Be right there.” he said, and hung up. Andrew shut down the computer and put it away, anxious to hear Stephen's idea. He was still a cop at heart, and nothing gave him more pleasure that to see the bad guys get their comeuppance.
* * * *
She kicked her shoes off into the sand and sprinted out towards the water, her long chestnut hair flying out behind her. “Wait up!” Joe called after her. It was dark, and he barely made out her shadow. “You're not really jumping in with all your clothes on, are you?” he asked, panting.
"Watch me!” she shouted and dove headfirst into the sea, clad in her t-shirt and blue jeans.
Joe stood watching in amazement. Crazy girl! No Beverly Hills chick would ever do anything that whimsical, especially if it meant breaking a fingernail or mussing her hair.
Angela's head appeared above the waves. “Come on!” she called to him.
"No way!” he shouted back.
"Do I have to come pull you in?” she spat out salty, ocean water.
"You are not going to let me get out of this, are you?” he started to take off his shoes.
"Nope!” she grinned and dove under the water again.
He watched her, the moonlight reflecting off her clear, pale skin. He took off his shirt, revealing his fantastic body, and ran to the shoreline. The water came up to his ankles. It was warm and inviting.
"Come on, little Joey Bear!” she catcalled him, grinning.
"Please, don't call me that.” Joe grinned. He took a step further out into the ocean, then another, then another. Finally the water was up to his waist. Angela swam up to him. Both standing waist high in the water. They locked eyes, fully aware of the potential quagmire and didn't seem to care.
"See, doing something impulsive isn't so bad, is it?” she smiled coyly. She gazed at the blueness of his eyes that seemed to shine like beacons in the moonlight. For a moment she seemed to forget all about Beverly.
"What else do you do on impulse?” he took a step closer to her, smiling impishly.
"It depends."
"Depends on what?” he teased, playfully splashing her.
"The situation."
"Like the one with you and Beverly?” Joe asked her, taking another step closer. She lowered her eyes. He had called her bluff, and she knew it.
"Look, maybe swimming with you was a mistake. I'd better go.” she t
ried to float past him, but he grabbed her by the arm.
"What's the deal with you two?” He asked, pulling her towards him, his mouth only inches from hers.
"She and I are more than friends."
"Are you two lovers?"
Angela nodded, unable to take her gaze away from Joe's gorgeous eyes and hard body.
"Is that why the scene upstairs?"
Angela looked embarrassed. “Sorry about that, I had a little too much to drink."
"That's okay. It happens.” he said, inching closer.
She remained, unable to move. “I feel I'm intruding, you know? I'm not a relative, I'm not really invited..."
"No, that's not the case at all.” Joe said softly. The waves continued to beat up against them, and the lights of the hotel sparkled in the distance. They could faintly hear the music coming from the club. They were uneasily still for a moment.
"Joe, about Beverly and me. You see, this is our last summer together. I'm moving to New York City in the fall.” Angela explained. Her heart was beating like a drum, and she felt slightly woozy.
"How long have you been together?” he asked softly.
"Three years.” she answered, the noise of the waves almost drowning them out.
"That's a long time."
"Yeah” she nodded, incapable of removing her eyes from his aquiline face
"So, what are you going to do?” he asked moving his face nearer to hers.
"I'm not sure what we are going to do, with me moving to New York and all.” She answered, feeling nervous, like a teenager.
"I know, you told me.” Joe said. He inched closer until his pronounced chest was slightly touching hers. In the moonlight, he could see her hard nipples through her wet t-shirt.
"Joe, I think you...” she trailed off.
"Shhhh” Joe took her in his muscular arms and kissed her, deeply and passionately.
"No, Joe, I can't.” she protested, knowing she would not be able to refuse him.
"Angela, it's okay. Kiss me.” Joe pressed his lips to hers, mouth slightly open.
"Joe ... no ... Joe.” Angela pleaded. She fought off his advances until she could not fight any more. She let herself go and surrendered, letting the ocean and Beautiful Joe carry her away.
* * * *
They threw her unconscious, battered body onto a trash heap behind an abandoned gas station.
"Is she dead?” Donnie asked drunkenly.
"Who cares,” John Smith said abruptly. “Let's get out of here."
"Hell, yeah!” Donnie let out a whoop and got behind the wheel, with John Smith in the passenger seat. Donnie was still stunned at how easy it had been. The man was right. Donnie had never heard of ‘roofies’ before. They sure were nifty little things. The man had the whole thing planned out. They stuck around until Devin was done with her shift and offered to buy her a drink. They sat around and talked bullshit for a few minutes and then, when the time was right, slipped it in her drink. The chicks never noticed. After a few minutes, they'd start to feel sick. You'd offer to take them outside for some air. As soon as they passed out, presto! Instant pussies.
"I told you it never failed!” John Smith grinned, lighting up a smoke.
"Yeah, I got to get me some of those!” Donnie chuckled, driving a little erratically.
"I'll sell you some,” John Smith said, puffing smoke rings out the window.
"Good, ‘cuz I like ‘em.” Donnie continued to hoot, holler, and drive like an asshole.
The man just smiled to himself. The little stripper trash was number twenty-two, and counting. Getting Devin out to the car was easy. That idiot bouncer and skank bartender were busy watching the T.V., not paying attention. Once Devin was in the backseat, they took off.
They found a secluded parking lot, and took turns. Devin seemed to drift in and out of somnolence, asking sleepily what was happening. The man gave her a solid kick in the chest. “Shut the fuck up, cunt.” the man shouted angrily, and continued kicking her in the face and head. Her nose made a cracking sound, and blood poured out.
Donnie shoved a beer bottle deep into her vagina, which shattered into a million shards of glass. She instantly started to hemorrhage. John Smith was less than thrilled.
"Great! I wanted some more pussy. Now my dick will get cut.” he spat at Donnie.
They finally finished their diabolical fun and started back to the hotel. Donnie was ready to take a go at it again. John Smith shook his head. “Maybe we should go back, this neighborhood is a little scary.” the man looked around and saw what looked to be drug dealers, lurking in alleyways and hiding from the cops.
"Ya’ know how to get back?” Donnie pulled out his crumpled map.
Great, the dumb country bumpkin got us lost. “Down that road, just like we came.” the man pointed. He wondered what time it was, as he never wore a watch. It might fall off during one of his ‘parties'.
He peered out the window, looking at the homeless and the crack whores. He thought about how all women were nothing but whores. He also thought about his mother, his beautiful and kind mother. She was soft, feminine and loved his father dearly. He remembered being a little boy and wishing his mother paid attention to him the way she paid it to his father. She was more affectionate to his father than she was to him. She hugged and kissed his father more than she hugged and kissed him. He hated her.
He turned his attention to Donnie. “So, what brings you out to California again?” the man inquired, careful not to let his identity slip.
"Oh, this family reunion. Ya’ know, all those people back at the hotel? Well, we was invited to be with all those people, about a hundred or so. Ya’ see my sister done died. She was a real bitch.” Donnie grumbled as he sped his junk heap of a car through the street.
"Yeah? How so?” the man was only slightly interested, lost in his own thoughts.
"She was an uppity bitch. Thought she was better than everybody. One of them educated, independent women. She was a slut.” Donnie expressed.
"I hear ya."
"She never paid any attention to me."
"I know the type, trust me."
They rode in silence for a brief moment, then came to a stoplight. Donnie leaned in close.
"Wanna know a secret?” Donnie whispered, his vile breath stinging the man's nostrils.
"Sure.” he lit another cigarette.
"I killed her."
"Killed who?"
"My snotty sister. I made it look like an accident. Nobody even would guess it was me, but it was. I killed her, I killed the bitch.” Donnie burst into a raw, hysterical laugh.
John Smith just nodded. “Yeah, sure buddy. Whatever you say. Let's just get back to the hotel.” the man was getting tired of hanging around with this wino loser. Me made a mental note never to let any other guy join in, better to keep his secret past time to himself. He wasn't too worried about this stupid country drunkard ratting on him. In a few days, he would be gone, back to New York, and he'd never have to see this dumb, dirty fuck again.
* * * *
She waited nervously for him in the lobby. She sat on one of the plush couches, clad in her old bathing suit that was still damp from her afternoon swim. Every time the elevator doors opened, she looked up hoping it was Jason. She wrapped her towel around her middle and looked at the clock on the wall, it was a little after eleven. Jason was going to get that midnight swim after all.
Finally, the elevator doors opened and Jason strode out. Shauna nearly lost her breath. He grinned at her as he made his way through the lobby wearing only his swimming trunks. His toned, athletic body was to die for, and all the ladies behind the front desk couldn't help but take notice. He made his way over to where Shauna was sitting.
"Why, don't you look cute in a bathing suit.” he playfully looked her up and down.
"Likewise.” she blushed.
"So, ready for a midnight swim?"
"It's not quite midnight yet.” Shauna pointed to the clock.
"Oh, okay.�
� Jason began to walk out the sliding glass doors leading outside. Shauna followed. “So it has to be exactly midnight before we can go into the ocean? Is that the hotel rules?” he bantered.
"Why don't we go join them?” Shauna indicated the pool and Jacuzzi deck, where Beverly, Justin, and the two girls from dinner were swimming and hanging out.
"Sounds like a plan to me.” Jason said. They wandered out onto the deck and set their towels down on two folding lounge chairs.
Justin was already relaxing in the Jacuzzi, and Beverly was splashing around in the shallow end of the pool with the girls. “Hey, Shauna, I have some people I want you to meet.” Beverly waved her over. Shauna dove in to the clear warm water, and swam over to them. “Shauna, this is Lilly and Shelly. Lilly and Shelly, this is my first cousin, Shauna.” Beverly introduced. The girls smiled, uneasily.
"Hello.” Shauna held out her hand to the girls, who cautiously shook it. “Are you guys having a good time?” she asked them pleasantly. They nodded their heads in unison, remaining silent.
"They are a little shy.” Beverly shot Shauna a signal with her eyes, which she immediately caught.
Shauna decided to stay warm and friendly, but not pry. Something was obviously going on there. She turned her attention to the Jacuzzi, where the twins seemed to be having a ball kicking back. She waved; Jason beckoned her over. She swam over to the edge of the pool, folding her arms on the over the side. “Yes?” Shauna teased, giving Jason a seductive look.
"Come in here with us.” Justin and Jason spoke at the same time. Both had incredible bodies and sexy smiles. Who could resist?
"No way!” Shauna shook her head, tauntingly.
We don't bite.” Jason teased.
"Sure you don't!” Shauna climbed out of the pool and jumped into the hot bubbling water. She was still a little tipsy. “Oh, my God, me in a Jacuzzi with two hot guys.” Shauna giggled. If only Robert could see her now.
Weekends Page 10