A Taste of Honey

by Tom Benson

  “What’s that noise?” the girl asked, looking from Honey to the rear of the vehicle.

  “You tell me your age and I’ll tell you what the noise is.” She knew the girl’s age but for her peace of mind she wanted to hear it.

  “I’m 16,” the girl said as the garage door lifted silently.

  “There are two big pieces of shit in the trunk Miranda,” Honey said as she reversed the car out. “I’m going to dispose of them, so I need you to be a brave girl for me.” As she steered the car onto the quiet street, she pressed the remote switch to close the garage door.

  Miranda said, “What do I have to do?” Her eyes were still wide, but she had stopped crying. She continued to tremble although it was a warm evening, and the vehicle was warm.

  Honey glanced once at the beautiful house and shook her head. She selected drive and set off from the place, keeping the motor running quietly until they were clear of the house.

  “I’m going to drop you off at the nearest Emergency Room with your cell. I want you to call your folks first, and tell them where you are. Next, I want you to report to the desk and tell them you need to speak to the police. You don’t do anything else until the police arrive.”

  “I don’t want to-,”

  “Miranda, those people have abused and then murdered girls like you. Please consider the ones who didn’t make it.” She took her eyes from the road to look at the girl.

  “Okay,” Miranda said and started to sob again, “but I haven’t got my cell-,”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Honey said. “We’ll deal with that when we get to the E.R.”

  *

  They had only traveled about 50 yards when there was a reflection of bright colored lights from up ahead, around the long curving avenue. Reflections of reds and blues were bouncing from car windscreens and the windows of houses. Honey cursed under her breath and slowed as the police patrol car slewed to a halt directly in front of her.

  Honey lowered her latex-gloved hands from the wheel to her lap and watched as the patrolman got out and looked around while approaching the SUV. He was young and eager.

  “Good evening ma’am,” the patrolman said as the driver’s window of the SUV buzzed down slowly. The patrolman appraised the driver and dimples appeared in his cheeks. “We’ve had some reports of a prowler in the area and I was wondering if you had seen anything.”

  Honey turned to address Miranda. “You said you had seen somebody-,”

  “Excuse me,” the patrolman interrupted and leaned forward to peer inside. Miranda turned away from the policeman’s gaze. Honey silently released the catch on the driver’s door and started to reach down with her other hand.

  “I recognize you young lady,” the patrolman said. “You’re one of our missing persons-,”

  Honey interrupted the patrolman this time, but she used the car door. She pushed out hard, and the door knocked him backward. He tripped with his heels against the curb and fell awkwardly onto the sidewalk. Honey slammed the door and threw the shift into reverse. With tires screeching and the vehicle traveling backward, she rammed the shift forward into drive and the car danced left and right as the rubber tried to take hold. Smoke billowed from the tires as the SUV leaped forward, snaking on the tarmac and narrowly missing the patrol car.

  A glance in the rearview reassured Honey. The patrolman had recovered and was getting into his car, but it was facing the wrong way. Even a good driver would take a few seconds to make a turn at that point on a blind bend.

  Honey hurled the big SUV around the quiet, long curving avenue for a few hundred yards until she heard the siren behind her. She glanced in the rearview and saw the reflection of flashing lights as they glinted on the windows of parked cars.

  She spun the SUV into the nearest driveway and braked hard, quickly lifting her foot from the brake to ensure no lights showed. As soon as the vehicle was stopped Honey grabbed Miranda and pulled her down flat below the height of the seat. She lay over the girl’s trembling body.

  “Don’t worry Miranda, I’ll have you out of here in no time. I just don’t need the hassle of a police check right now.”

  There was a muffled sound from the rear of the car.

  Miranda said, “Are those people in the trunk okay?”

  “Yeah, for the moment,” Honey said. “The important thing is that you’re not in the trunk.” She glanced up as a patrol car screamed past along the avenue, lights flashing and sirens blaring. Honey sat up, tapped the girl on the shoulder to let her know all was clear, and then they reversed out of the driveway and went back the way they had come.

  Honey took the appropriate turn and then turned again almost immediately. She stopped and reversed up to a large, dark-colored sedan parked under some trees in a cul-de-sac. She got out and used the remote to unlock her car.

  “Come on Miranda my girl,” she said in a friendly tone, “get in there and sit still.”

  Miranda was out of one vehicle and into the other without a whimper. She was fast getting accustomed to how her savior operated, and she wasn’t about to argue. It seemed that anyone who disagreed with this pretty blonde woman got hurt.

  There were only four houses situated around the street, and they all had long drives, so nobody was going to see what Honey was doing. She had already checked for the presence of CCTV cameras. The local people obviously felt safe; there were no cameras. Honey hoped there wasn’t another nosey neighbor like the one who had obviously spotted her earlier in the rear gardens.

  From beginning to end, it took Honey five minutes to transfer her two prisoners from the trunk of their SUV to the trunk of the sedan. She left the SUV locked and threw the keys into a nearby garden. That small action would delay the local police for a while at least.

  As they left the area at a respectable speed, three patrol cars came towards them with lights flashing and sirens blaring. Two of them went around the long avenue, and one turned into the cul-de-sac where Honey had dumped the SUV.

  *

  For ten minutes, Honey drove toward the place she’d seen earlier, staying within the speed limit. At the Emergency Room, she stopped within yards of the entrance.

  She said, “Are you going to be okay walking in there Miranda?”

  “Yes I think so, but I haven’t got my cell.”

  “Is it pink with your name on the case?” Honey said reaching something from the pocket of her red hooded sweatshirt.

  “Yes, that’s it,” Miranda said. “Thank you and God bless you.” She grabbed the cell. “I’ll wait for five minutes,” she said and paused. “I promise I will call the police. Will I see you again?”

  “No we won’t meet again, Miranda, but you’ll come through this.” Honey took the girl’s hand. “You’re young and alive. I want you to accept all offers of help, okay?”

  “I will,” Miranda said and gripped the door handle. “Thank you, and goodbye.”

  Honey said, “Goodbye,” and squeezed the girl’s trembling hand and then kept an eye on her as she walked to the entrance. Honey didn’t drive off until Miranda was indoors.

  *

  Wednesday, June 18th, 2003

  Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

  Honey made the trip in less than three and a half hours driving hard, stopping only once on the way. She arrived at the agreed location, under a road bridge near South Shore. It was 2am when she parked the car and then walked away a few yards to observe from the cover of some bushes.

  There was just enough moonlight to see the nearby approaches. Drifting to her nostrils were aromas ranging from industrial smoke from factories and passing shipping to the fresh smell of the nearby greenery.

  A purple Cadillac cruised up almost silently to the spot. The headlamps went off as it passed. Five minutes later, the car returned and pulled over near the Dodge. The chrome fenders, wheel caps and fittings on the Cadillac, glinted in the moonlight. The low, rumbling motor died, and there was an eerie stillness in the night.

  From the driver’s side, an Af
rican/American got out and stretched as he looked around. He was six foot tall with the physique of a heavyweight boxer. His suit was sky blue that contrasted nicely with a navy shirt, white tie, white hat and white shoes.

  The passenger door opened and an equally tall, but slimmer African/American emerged. He wore a purple suit and white fedora with a purple band. His shirt was lilac, and his tie was white. Draped around his neck was a white silk scarf. Both men were dripping with gold jewelry.

  “Charles,” Honey said as she advanced, her arms outstretched to demonstrate that she wasn’t a threat. She had her automatic tucked in the back of her jeans; just in case.

  “You gotta be Honey,” the slim man said. He held out his right hand and took Honey’s briefly. The gold bracelets on his wrist jangled. “You suit your name little lady; I have to tell you, you do.” He half turned to introduce his bodyguard/driver. “This gentleman is my associate, Ashley.”

  Honey returned the brief nod of acknowledgment Ashley gave her. Even in the moonlight it was easy to see that Ashley would be an imposing figure in any argument. He was much bigger when up close.

  Charles said, “You didn’t give any idea of the price, just in case I like the merchandise.”

  “I’ll let you judge what I’ve got first,” Honey said, “and then we’ll discuss price.” She flipped open the trunk on the Dodge.

  Charles looked inside, where the courtesy light illuminated the Carson couple.

  “Ashley,” he said, “Come and help these two out of here, please.”

  The big man strode across, leaned in and hoisted Rick Carson out by the shoulders and leaned him against the side of the car. He immediately reached in and lifted out Gillian Carson and stood her beside her husband, but this time he looked the captive up and down and licked his lips. He tore the tape from their mouths.

  “Do not speak unless asked a question,” Ashley said, “and if you scream or talk when you shouldn’t, I’ll break your fucking arms and legs.” He paused and looked from one to the other. “That will be before I drop you into the Ohio River.” He nodded to his right, and sure enough both the captives noted the nearby bridge and the wide expanse of water flowing under it. Pittsburgh was on the other side, full of lights and life.

  Ashley held open the two sides of Gillian Carson’s ruined dress. She squirmed and crossed her legs. He let go of the expensive material and pressed his face to hers as he spoke.

  “Don’t fucking move white girl or I’ll ram my arm up there and pull your fucking insides out.” He opened the flimsy garment once again and noted the torn bra and lack of panties. He nodded and turned to Charles. He said, “Pussy to go boss,” and then chuckled as he looked at Gillian, winked and blew her a kiss.

  When Ashley undid Rick Carson’s pants by snapping the buckle from his belt, it reduced the already nervous man to a wreck. Ashley looked into Carson’s eyes before he roughly pulled down the pants and boxers. He looked at Carson’s manhood and grinned as he shook his head.

  “Turn around white boy,” Ashley said, and when Carson simply stared, he was assisted by two large hands gripping his clothing and spinning him around. Carson was slammed hard against the Dodge by one huge hand. Ashley used his other hand to smack Carson’s bare buttocks and heard a whimper. He did it again, but harder and got a girlish yelp.

  Ashley said, “They’re both good to go boss.” He spun Rick Carson back around to face forward, his pants and underwear still around his ankles. Ashley blew him a kiss too.

  Charles smiled and turned to his latest business partner.

  “Honey, my dear,” he said and indicated the prisoners with a wave of his hand. “I must pay you for two such fine specimens. Please let me feel I’ve been fair to you.”

  The Carsons looked at each other and then at the other three people. Their eyes widened, and both of their mouths opened, but they knew not to speak when Ashley stepped forward and glared at them, his right eyebrow raised.

  Honey was standing in the moonlight with her hood dropped back. Rick and Gillian both stared and were both reminded clearly about Harriet Forest and what they’d done to her. It became crystal clear to the pair why they were standing there helplessly, while their futures were in the hands of a crazy, rogue policewoman and a pimp.

  “Okay, I’ll give you my price,” Honey said as she looked at the pair and then turned to address Charles. “I’d like the husband used by at least two of your boys, but I’d like his wife to be made to watch. After that, please use him as you see fit, he’s yours.”

  Rick Carson urinated over his loose clothing and cried openly while Gillian sobbed as she dropped to her knees. Ashley stepped forward and lifted her by the elbows until she stood upright again.

  Charles nodded. “I like your style Honey.” He glanced at Gillian and smiled, showing several gold teeth. “I think his wife is quite pretty at the moment, so maybe she could enjoy some fun with my boys too.”

  Honey said, “I’d like her to pleasure at least four or five of your biggest guys. Tell them to be inventive, and take her one after the other, or maybe two or three at once. Make sure the husband is made to watch the whole thing.”

  The soon to be enslaved couple dropped to their knees, sobbing and whimpering. They knelt there on the grassy trail, their hands still bound together as they looked directly at Honey their eyes pleading for mercy. It was a wasted gesture.

  Ashley stepped forward. “You two stand up, or I’ll fuck the pair of you right here.”

  They cried openly and quietly pleaded for mercy as they helped each other stand.

  Charles said, “I promise you Honey my dear, I’ll do all of what you’ve asked, and then I’ll put them to work for me.” He turned. “Put them in the car please Ashley.”

  The big man opened the massive trunk on the Cadillac and approached Rick Carson. He took him by the shoulders and dragged him unceremoniously to the big car and pushed him inside the trunk. He curled up in the fetal position, crying openly.

  Ashley went back for Gillian, and she started trying to shrink away from him. Ashley grinned at her and wrapped a strong left arm around her shoulders before thrusting his right hand between her shapely thighs, thrusting two fingers inside her as he lifted her off her feet.

  He whispered his intentions close to her ear as he carried her to the Cadillac like a pile of clothing. She was hysterical by the time she landed in the trunk beside her husband. The pair made quiet animal noises right up until the trunk was closed.

  Charles extended his hand again. “Honey, it has been an education dealing with you. If you ever give up the kidnapping game, please do get in touch. There are so many ways I could use your talents.” He handed her a purple and gold business card.

  “Goodbye gentlemen,” Honey said and nodded to the pair, who both returned the gesture. She walked across to the back of the Dodge and rolled up the plastic sheeting in the trunk, ready for the first dumpster she passed. She got in and started the motor.

  The two cars set off, both engines quietly rumbling with the sound of suppressed power. Neither car showed lights until they were near the highway and then they both sped off in opposite directions.

  *

  Honey drove east along Route 70 for just over an hour until she found a motel with a nearby diner. She booked for one night and promised herself at least four hours sleep. Before going to bed, she lifted her cell and sent a simple text message.

  ‘50’S DNR @ HBRG I/SCTN. THU 19th. CASH IF POS. H’

  ***

  Chapter 9

  Catching up

  .

  Thursday, June 19th, 2003

  Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

  Honey was showered, dressed, fed and on the road for 8:30am. Her schedule over the previous few days had been taking its toll and in a moment of clarity on Wednesday, she had made a conscious decision to let her body catch up with some proper rest.

  She took longer in the shower, and then more time over her hair and make-up. She chose to wear a blouse, plaid mi
ni-skirt and black heels. She had a pair of slip-ons to wear while driving. As she set off east along Route 70 and Route 76 towards Harrisburg, she felt refreshed. She also felt a hint of excitement.

  *

  New York

  When Maria got dressed, she brushed her hair so that it hung in long, loose ringlets. She wanted to look good, so she wore a T-shirt, Daisy Duke’s and white sneakers. It was a special day, which meant an application of mascara, eyeliner and lipstick to her already striking Mediterranean features.

  “Delano,” she told her full-length reflection, “you are looking hot girl,” and then she laughed because she never took herself too seriously. She was so upbeat not because of her appearance, but because of whom she was going to meet.

  As she left New York behind, she drove steadily away from the city and out onto Route 78. She approached the exit ramp for Bethlehem, checked her rear-view several times in quick succession and pulled off the highway and parked for ten minutes. Whilst stationery and out of the car, she had a good long look at the sky - no helicopters.

  The detective set off again and after ten minutes, when it was a quiet stretch, she performed a u-turn and headed back towards Newark. Five minutes in the wrong direction and satisfied she didn’t have a tail; she performed the same u-turn stunt to put her back on route; heading west. She was practical if a little unorthodox in her methods.

  A couple of hours later on Route 78, not far from the exit ramp to Harrisburg, Maria saw the diner where the meeting was to take place. It was a 24-hour place, and there weren’t many vehicles in the parking lot. She drove down onto the approach and then crept along between the vehicles, choosing to park between a red Ford pick-up and a gleaming dark blue Dodge Charger sedan. The Dodge looked good. She walked around it to admire the overall appearance and then she walked away nodding to herself.