Weekends

by Lindy S Hudis

  "Hey, just doing my job.” Jason told the imposing Beverly Hills attorney.

  Then John turned his attention to his son and some family crisis. Jason excused himself and went to his room to grab his trusty computer and then made his way out onto the pool deck. Enjoying the California sunshine, he searched on the FBI website for anything on Michael Peterson.

  There was a note on his computer from his father, who had obviously done a little snooping. The note said to check for a serial rapist on the loose in the New York area who went by the name of ‘John Smith'. Jason entered the name in the search engine and was stunned by what he saw. Way too many complaints about a rapist using GHB on girls in bars, and the jerk was still out there. He knew about GHB. Guys who used it were a dime a dozen.

  It was, unfortunately, a dream crime. The girls could not remember what happened to them, they only knew they had been attacked. Jason had come across so many case files where the rapists were hard to catch because the women were usually too frightened to press charges. The men were experts at scaring women to death with threats to harm them or their family. The ones who did press charges, dealt with a male dominated legal system. All a jury had to do was think the woman was a drunken slut, courtesy of a great defense attorney, and the rapist was free to do it again to other women. Jason tapped his head with his index finger. If only he had a witness, somebody who knew this ‘John Smith’ guy. Then he could nail his sorry ass to a tree.

  An IM from a cop he knew in Santa Barbara flashed across the screen. The cop had gotten the APB on Michael Peterson, and said he would be on the lookout for him. He sneered when he thought about that detestable little weasel. He couldn't get very far, not in a small town like this. He thought about beautiful, innocent Shauna and picked up his cell phone.

  "Women's Crisis Center of California.” a voice said.

  "May I please speak to Shauna Peterson?” he asked.

  "I'm sorry, she is with her counselor at the moment. May I take a message?” she asked.

  "Yeah, will you tell her that Jason called?” he requested.

  "Sure."

  "Any idea when she might be able to leave?"

  "As soon as the doctor gives his okay, probably sometime this afternoon.” she told him.

  "Okay, one more thing?” Jason said.

  "All right."

  "Will you tell her...” he hesitated for a moment.

  "Yes?” the lady asked.

  "Will you tell her that I love her?” he blurted out.

  "Of course I will. Thank you for calling.” she said and hung up.

  Jason gazed out at the ocean—noting the blueness and the power of it. Did he really mean what he said, that he loved her? He had only known her for a weekend. They had made love twice. It had been warm, soft, and wonderful. He was very attracted to her, and he had strong feelings of wanting to protect her. She was an angel, and maybe he really did...

  "HELP! POLICE! HELP!"

  His thoughts were shattered by the sudden, horrified cry. It came from somewhere to his left, down by the water. He bolted up and looked around.

  "HELP!"

  Jason rapidly moved to the edge of the pool deck and scanned the beach. He sprinted down the wooden stairs, two at a time, and bounded out onto the sand. Looking around, he finally saw them, a man and a woman standing in the surf hovering over a large black object. Jason pulled his badge from his pants pocket and dashed over to them.

  "FBI. I was up at the pool and heard you.” Jason told them, showing his badge.

  "Look what we found floating here in the surf.” the terrified man said to him.

  Jason examined what looked like a big, wet duffel bag. The man helped Jason pull it onto the sand. Jason frowned at the horrible, rotting smell emitting from it. He pulled a pen from his pocket, opened the zipper compartment, and saw a hand and some strands of long brown hair. Knowing immediately it was a body; he quickly called 911 on his cell phone.

  "911 do you have an emergency.” the operator asked.

  "Can we please get an ambulance to the Hotel Del Moor.” Jason asked, exasperated. This was the second time he had to call an ambulance to the hotel today. This was some weekend.

  As the man was comforting his shaken up wife, Jason took a closer look. The corpse was wearing a red and yellow friendship bracelet that looked familiar. He opened the zipper a little bit more, and the upper part of the body toppled out. The woman screamed, the man recoiled. Jason's mouth fell open as he realized who the dead girl was.

  * * * *

  John and Joe were greeted by a snippy receptionist at the Rape Crisis Center.

  "I'm sorry, only immediate family is allowed to see the victim,” she told them curtly.

  "I'm her uncle. I would like to see my niece, please.” John told her politely.

  "What part of immediate family are we not understanding, sir?” she snapped. She did not like men, Joe could tell.

  The whole place had an anti-male vibe, but who could blame them. All day long they saw the results of the diabolical side of masculinity. It did not occur to them that the paramedics, who saved the victims, and policemen, who captured the rapists, were almost exclusively men? Joe didn't want to get into it with them; he just wanted to see his cousin. At the moment, the ‘man hater’ at the front desk was making that very difficult.

  "I beg your pardon, but I insist on seeing my niece, now.” John was always nice at first; he had not unleashed the demons, yet.

  "You insist? I beg your pardon, but the law states immediate family only,” she snapped.

  "Ma'am, her mother is dead, her father is in the hospital, and we are the only family she has. Now if you don't mind...” John was clenching his teeth.

  "I do mind. Now please leave, or I'll call our attorney.” she glared at her.

  "Ma'am, I am an attorney and I know my rights. If you don't let me in to see my niece, I'll hit you with a suit so bad, it'll shut this place down. I'll have every city official crawling all over this place so fast it will make your head spin. I'll call the Health Department. I'll run all your doctor's names through records. Am I making myself abundantly clear?” John got right in her face. He never let anybody mess with him and knew exactly what to say.

  "Yes, sir, she's in room 9, down the hall to the left,” she stammered apologetically.

  "Thank you.” he smiled politely.

  He and Joe made their way down the hall to her room. He tentatively knocked on the door. “Come in.,” a voice said. They opened the door and saw Shauna sitting up on a cot, clad in a white hospital type gown. She was bruised and shaken up, but when she saw them she jumped into their arms.

  "Joe! Uncle John!” she exclaimed..

  "How are you?” John asked, hugging her.

  "I'm okay,” she told him. He held her tightly; she starting shaking and weeping.

  John held her firmly by the shoulders. “Are you ready to leave?” Shauna nodded through her tears.

  "Please don't tell my father what happened. I'll tell him myself when I'm ready,” she requested.

  "Whatever you want. You can even stay with us in Los Angeles if you need some time.” John emphatically told his niece.

  "I think I might take you up on that,” she said.

  "Look, why don't you get dressed, and we'll go back to the hotel,” he told her. She violently pulled away.

  "No! I don't want to go back there.” she broke away from him and curled herself up tightly on the cot.

  John went over to her and gingerly sat down next to her. “Shauna, Michael will never, ever come near you again. Jason is back at the hotel, and he is right on top of it.” he explained.

  "Jason?” she spoke his name and felt chills. Was she falling in love with him? Yes, she thought, that is exactly what was making her have chills at the mention of his name. He was going to save her, and he was going to get her shit head brother and bring him to justice. Jason was going to be her knight in shining armor.

  "I'll book you a suite so you can recover i
n a safe place. Then tomorrow, I will insist that you and your father stay in California until you both are ready. I'll take care of everything.” John stated.

  "Oh, Uncle John, thank you.” she whispered and hugged her uncle.

  "Now, let's get you dressed and out of here. I want you to get some rest with family around you.” he smiled at her. “You are a strong young lady, and you are going to be just fine."

  * * * *

  By late afternoon the bus pulled into the terminal. The exhausted foursome grabbed a cab and headed back to the hotel. Beverly knew she was in hot water, but all she wanted was to change clothes and take a shower. Justin swore he would never set foot in Los Angeles again, and Lilly was just grateful to be alive.

  When they got to the lobby, Andrew took Lilly back to his room. He wanted her to be safe and with her stepmother.

  Justin and Beverly waved as they vanished into the elevator. Beverly turned to face Justin, who looked just as tired as she did. “Thank you,” she said, smiling feebly.

  "Don't mention it,” he told her. Their eyes locked, and for a moment they were voiceless.

  "Well, I have to go deal with this shit going on.” Beverly said. “I'll see you at dinner?"

  "Absolutely.” he brushed the hair off her forehead and kissed her. She gently pulled away, smiling, and disappeared out the back door and down the stairs. He watched her go and turned to head upstairs to shower and change clothes.

  When he got upstairs, instead of going to his room, he decided to first knock on his father's door to check up on Lilly. His father opened the door with a confused look on his face. “What's going on?” Justin asked, entering the room. Lilly was sitting, Indian style, on the bed, wearing a pair of Andrew's sweats.

  "Shelly is not in here. I told her to stay in my room. Have any idea where she might be?” Andrew asked.

  "God, I hope she didn't go back to the redneck. That's probably what she did.” Justin said.

  "Yeah, I know. Shit! Why do women always go back to their abusers? The whole thing just makes me sick.” Andrew said throwing up his hands. “Look, I'm going to take a shower and a nap in you and your brother's room. Lilly has been through psychological hell, and I don't want to freak her out by walking around her half-naked."

  "That would freak anybody out, right Lilly?” Justin snickered. Lilly giggled for the first time in months. Andrew shot him a look and grabbed a change of fresh clothes

  "Lilly, stay in this room and wait here for Shelly. You're safe here, okay, hun?” Andrew asked her. She smiled and nodded. “I'll be right next door if you need me,” he said.

  They went next door to Justin's room and found it empty. “Now, where did Jason go?” Andrew shook his head, went into the bathroom, and shut the door. Justin heard the shower turn on. He collapsed on his bed and reached for a cigarette. All he wanted to do was to sit at a piano and pound out some Beethoven or Rachmaninoff; it was what he always did whenever he got stressed. He mostly thought about Beverly. She was beautiful, inside and out. He would never have gone on the misadventure he did with just anybody. He put the Marlboro to his lips and took a puff. They were going back to Philadelphia tomorrow. Was he ever going to see Beverly again? Was he falling in love with her? Was she falling in love with him?

  Just then, the door flew open and Jason hastily bounded in. “Justin.” he exclaimed. “When did you get back?"

  "About twenty minutes ago. You will never guess what I have just been through.” he sat up and stubbed his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray.

  "Same goes double for me. Where is Dad?"

  "He's in the shower, what's going on?” Justin asked, wide eyed.

  "You are not going to believe what the fuck is going on now.” Jason told his brother. Just then Jason's cell phone rang, he swiftly answered it. Justin overheard his brother's conversation—something about an APB on Donnie McCoy for murder. Justin just listened in surprise.

  Finally, Jason hung up the phone and turned to face his twin.

  "Donnie killed Shelly. Her body was found this afternoon floating in the surf.” he informed Justin.

  "Shit! Are you sure he did it?” Justin asked astonished.

  "Who else would? Also Shauna was attacked and raped this morning. I've been dealing with this shit all day,” he revealed.

  Just then the shower turned off and Andrew emerged from the bathroom wearing a towel around his waist. He knew at once something was up. “Dad, I hope you didn't have plans to hang out by the pool this evening.” Jason smirked.

  * * * *

  Beverly tentatively opened the door to her bungalow and was relieved to find it empty. She needed a little time alone to think about things. She quickly jumped in the shower, the hot water engulfing her. She was falling in love with Justin, and her family was about to disinherit her thinking she was still in love with Angela. This was way too Jerry Springer for her. She would simply come clean to her parents about her relationship with Angela, and then come clean to Angela about her feelings for Justin.

  She reached for the soap and lathered her body, relishing the brief delight the steaming shower gave her. She thoroughly shampooed her hair, and then rinsed off. Justin was talented, sexy, and wonderful. She couldn't get him out of her mind. As she was turning the shower off, she heard the phone ringing in the next room.

  Beverly grabbed a towel and ran to answer the phone. “Hello?” she panted, dripping water onto the white shag carpet.

  "You're back! Jesus fucking Christ.” Angela snapped. “I have been dealing with your parents all day and trust me, it has not been fun."

  "I'm sorry, Angela. I've been grappling with some shit myself.” Beverly told her, drying herself.

  "Will you please get up here? I've been banished from the reunion. Thank God Joe is letting me stay with him..."

  "Oh, you are staying with Joe now?” Beverly cut her off. Angela was silent on the other end. “So what's going on with you two? Angela?"

  "Just get up here. We have to talk, Beverly.” Angela sighed and hung up. Beverly quickly jerked on some shorts and a tank top and trotted to the lobby of the hotel. She looked around and saw nobody. What the fuck?

  "Bev."

  She turned and saw Angela and Joe coming out of the bar. Both had been drinking and were slightly buzzed. “Great! What's up with this?” Beverly asked.

  "I can't face your parents sober.” Angela smirked.

  "I have had a bizarre day, too.” Joe piped up.

  "Where are Mom and Dad?” Beverly asked Angela, who pointed in the direction of the elevator.

  "They are all up in John's room,” she told her. Beverly took a deep breath.

  "You are coming with me, right?” she asked them.

  "I'm not letting you go into the snake pit alone.” Joe simpered, and they all started into the elevator. They proceeded down the hall toward John's suite and stood outside the door for a moment.

  Beverly reached up to knock on the door, then quickly retreated. “I can't do this.” she started to turn away.

  Joe seize her by the arm quickly. “You have to face them, Beverly,” he told his cousin seriously. Angela nodded in the direction of the door, and Beverly softly knocked.

  "Who is it?” a male voice asked.

  "It's Beverly.” she said, her stomach tightly wound in knots. She faintly heard a commotion inside the room, and finally her Uncle John opened the door. He gave his niece a highbrowed gaze as he held the door open for them.

  Allison stared at her daughter with disgust. “Is it true, Beverly? Is the filthy rumor about you and that girl the truth?” she hissed, pointing a perfectly manicured finger in Angela's direction.

  "First of all, Mother, Angela is not ‘that girl'...” Beverly started.

  "Oh, yes, she is! How dare you disgrace the family like this.” Allison shrieked. Joe and Angela exchanged glances. This was going to get vicious.

  "Allison, calm down.” John said gently.

  "Don't tell me to calm down, God dammit! Now you tell me, you
ng lady, is it true that you and Angela are ... are...."

  "Lesbians?” Beverly finished her mother's sentence and looked at her. “Yes, we are,” she told her, defiantly. Instant chaos. Allison burst into hysterical tears, Patrick trying to comfort her. John made his way over to the bar to pour his sister a stiff drink. Angela held her head in her hands, and Joe just looked peeved.

  "Why? We had such big plans for you. Why? How could you do this to us?” Allison was barely audible through her abulic crying. John handed her a glass of scotch, and she chugged it.

  "Mom, will you just listen to me?” Beverly went over to her mother and tried to touch her hand.

  Allison quickly flinched away. “Don't touch me, you filth. Oh, God, what are we going to do when the neighbors find out? We're going to be the gossip of the whole neighborhood.” Allison whimpered.

  "Mrs. Carny...” Angela started.

  "The whole racket club will be talking about us behind our backs.” she wailed.

  "Allison...” Angela repeated.

  "Shut up. You destroyed my daughter, you ruined my family.” Allison held her head in her hands and sobbed dramatically.

  "Allison, Beverly and I are not lesbians.” Angela told her. Beverly looked quizzically at her lover, then slowly smiled. It was the most intense instant of their relationship, the moment of truth. Both of them knew what was happening, and both of them were fine with it. Joe took Angela's hand in his and nodded in encouragement.

  "What do you mean? Beverly just told me you were.” Allison retorted.

  "Allison, listen to me. Beverly and I are just friends now. I'm in love with somebody else,” she explained.

  "What, another woman?” Allison snapped and reached for a tissue.

  "No, I'm in love with a man. A very wonderful man.” Angela and Joe smiled at each other. John noticed and cocked his head in surprise. He never missed anything.

  "How can you be a lesbian and be in love with a man?” Allison stopped crying and eyed Angela.